


why don't we go somewhere only we know

by bowlingfornerds



Series: long fics [7]
Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Homes, Children, F/M, Fluff, Lake Houses, Slow Burn, Summer, Summer Holidays, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingfornerds/pseuds/bowlingfornerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the mornings, Abby and Jake would take Clarke out to do something in town, and Aurora would take Octavia and Bellamy.  The afternoons were often spent together, and in the evenings, the two families would convene in the gardens, and have dinner together. The adults might drink a little and Clarke would take Bellamy down to the water and teach him to swim.</p><p>The Griffins spend every summer in their house by the lake. This year, they have some new neighbours, and Clarke is taken pretty quickly with the freckled boy next door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summer One

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have no idea if this is going to have more chapters. I really don't. It might do - but if you want to read more, definitely tell me?
> 
> I've had horrible writers block for the past week, so I'm trying to fix it now. I wrote this and refused to do anything until it was finished - meaning I have a terrible need for the toilet and I missed lunch.
> 
> EDIT: I have changed the rating from none to Teen, after putting up chapter three, and that's entirely because the language progressively gets worse as they get older. Sure, until chapters three and four, there's none, but there might be one or two every now and again, and while I'll be completely dumbfounded at anyone age ten/eleven and below reading my story, fan fiction and watching The 100 in general (I am 17 and legitimately not old enough to buy the DVD on my own), I just thought I should put the warning up, in case there are any littles wandering about this story. Thanks.
> 
> Title from 'Somewhere Only We Know' - I have no idea who sung it.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Or don't. I don't control you.

**Day One**

It was early summer when Jake Griffin pulled up to the lake house; all pale blue with white trimmings, a wrap-around porch and a tire swing hanging from a tree in the back garden. Clarke was nine, her blonde hair swaying across her shoulders and her shorts reaching her knees. Her pink t-shirt had a picture of Belle, from _Beauty and The Beast_ , printed across it, and she fingered the hems as she stood by the car. Her eyes narrowed on the car next door; different to the one she had seen the last year. Last year’s car was black; a middle-aged couple with greying hair owned it and would sit on the porch around the back of their house, sipping their drinks and casting glares in her direction whenever she made too much noise. This year’s was red, with stickers along the back window; a woman, a boy and a girl.

Clarke waited for her parents to join her, and her mother’s hands gently landed on her shoulders, rubbing a little as she looked at the new car.

“I guess we have new neighbours,” Abby Griffin said. Then her hands slipped away and Clarke’s head turned to follow them. She caught her mother’s hand and Abby pulled her along in the direction of their car. “Let’s unpack, and we’ll meet them.”

It was only an hour later when Clarke stood back out the front of the house. Their summer homes had no boundary lines; it was grass the entire way down and the only way to tell where one property ended and another began was to figure out the half way mark between the two houses.  She stood bare foot in the grass, following her parents towards the front door of the holiday home. Her father knocked on the door, and Clarke stood behind his leg, clutching at his shorts in wait.

The door was opened by a boy. He seemed a little older than her, with a lanky frame and tan skin. His hair was unruly and untamed and his eyes were dark and inquisitive as he looked at the three-person family on his doorstep. Clarke’s eyes widened at the sight of him; all jagged edges and hard lines. His cheeks were covered in freckles and he was as bare foot as she. To put it simply, Clarke decided right then and there that she had never seen someone as beautiful as him.

“Hello,” the boy said, furrowing his brow at the strangers.

“Hi,” Jake smiled. “We’re staying next door – are your parents around?” The boy hesitated before nodding and turned away from the door. He faltered though, and looked back.

“Come in,” he said, gesturing with his hands.

Jake wandered in first as the boy disappeared around the corner of another door frame and Clarke followed, looking wide eyed at the home. It was identical to hers, with the same pale wall paper on the walls, and the layout looked familiar, too. The furniture was different, though – while Clarke’s holiday home had large sofas and oak chairs, this one had run down arm chairs, a ratty red sofa, and mix-and-match chairs at the dining table. It was all so different; a bright red plastic chair, a simple wooden one, a silver stool with a black cushion – but it all fit so well into the same space.

The boy reappeared as Clarke’s family reached the living room. He was now carrying a toddler in his arms; with the same dark hair as him but lighter eyes. The child stared at the strangers before burrowing her head into the boy’s neck. Behind them was a woman; she seemed as run down as their furniture, but had the same lines in the corners of her eyes that her father did – the ones that he told her the fairies gave to happy people.

She smiled at Clarke’s parents before the young girl and introduced herself.

“I’m Aurora,” she said, and Clarke’s face lit up.

“Like the princess!” She said happily, forgetting her shyness. Aurora turned to Clarke and smiled at her.

“Exactly like the princess,” she agreed.

“My name is Jake,” her father said next with a lazy smile. “This is my wife, Abby, and our daughter, Clarke.” Aurora smiled at them in turn, before reaching out a hand and placing it on the boy’s shoulder.

“This is my son, Bellamy,” Aurora said next. “And my daughter, Octavia.” Clarke stared at the boy openly, wide eyes and the ghost of a smile across her lips. Bellamy. It seemed to fit him so perfectly, even though she’d never heard the name before. He looked at her too, but in a way of curiosity instead of awe. Clarke didn’t mind though – they were very different. His hard lines were the opposite of her smooth edges; she was a skinny child, but with the chubby face she got from her grandparents. The corners of Bellamy’s mouth tilted upwards as he looked at her though, and Clarke was suddenly very excited for the summer.

 

**Day Two**

Bellamy didn’t know how to swim. She learnt this as she splashed around in the shallow end of the lake, her father sitting at the edge with a fond smile. Bellamy sat on the small wooden dock behind his family’s house, his feet in the water, watching. Up on the wrap around porch of Clarke’s house, Abby, Aurora and Octavia sat, and Clarke liked this a lot more than the couple that used to have the house.

“Would you keep an eye on her?” Jake asked Bellamy as he stood. “I’m going to go back up to the house.” Bellamy nodded, not saying a word, and Clarke continued to splash around.

“Why don’t you come in?” She asked, swimming over to the dock and treading water there, as she held onto the ladder.

“I don’t want to,” Bellamy replied with a shrug. Clarke furrowed her brow.

“Can you swim?” She asked. Bellamy paused before nodding. “Can you?” He nodded again, more sure and crossing his arms. “I don’t believe you!”

“I can, too,” he told her, annoyed. Clarke grinned as he glared at her.

“I bet you can’t!” She called out.

“I can swim!” He replied. She pushed away from the dock, smiling still.

“Prove it!”

“Fine.” Bellamy was easy to annoy, she found, watching him slip into the water and cling onto the ladder. While it was shallow, it was still a lot deeper than Bellamy’s height, and his feet wouldn’t hit the mud at the bottom unless his head was under the surface.

“Come on!” She called out. He glared at her, and pushed away from the ladder, paddling uselessly in the water. Clarke, alternatively, was a water baby – she had been swimming from the time she could walk. Their house had a pool, and Clarke was always in it, every day – she was born for this sort of thing.

Bellamy’s paddling was still proving fruitless as his head dipped under the water and he came back up, spluttering, his hair stuck to his forehead. Clarke swam over, as he splashed, trying to stay above the surface. For a moment, forgetting her nervousness around him, she reached out and gripped at his waist, holding him up.

He clung to her shoulders and they stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed. Her face broke out into a smile, as she looked at the boy carefully; wondering if it was possible to count his freckles, and how could his eyes be so dark?

“Told you you couldn’t swim,” she said with a smile. Bellamy huffed, but clutched her tightly as she looped one arm around his waist and swam them back to the ladder on the dock. He then clung onto that instead. There, he wiped his hair away from his forehead, and Clarke smiled once more at it sticking up on end. He just scowled though, not meeting her eyes.

“Do you want me to teach you?” She asked. Bellamy paused before looking at her now.

“You would teach me?” Clarke nodded happily.

“I would love to.”

 

**Day Four**

She found out he was older than her. Clarke sat on the floor of his home’s living room, colouring into her colouring book, her _Cinderella_ t-shirt wrinkling as she bent over to reach the green pencil. Bellamy lounged across the sofa, flicking through TV channels and Octavia was on the armchair, curled up, asleep.

Aurora walked in with a smile.

“I’m going out to get some food,” she told the children that were still awake. “Bellamy, you’re in charge until I get home.” Clarke shrugged, nodding, not turning away from her page until she heard the door click shut.

“Why are you in charge?” She asked.

“Because I’m older,” he shrugged.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.” Clarke’s eyes widened, and she counted the three year difference between them.

“I’m nine,” she told him. He nodded.

“I know.” Clarke didn’t question how he knew, and turned back to her colouring. Later, Octavia woke up crying, while Bellamy was in the kitchen. Clarke knelt by the chair and immediately smelt what Octavia’s issue was; she picked her up carefully, holding her like her mother taught her to do, as she went in search of Bellamy.

He found her though, with an annoyed scowl as he scooped his sister out of Clarke’s arms.

“Can’t I help?” She asked, as he sauntered off in the direction of the bathroom. He shook his head.

“My sister, my responsibility.”

 

**Day Ten**

Bellamy was an angry child, she realised. Yes, he was beautiful and gentle when he wanted to be – but he was hot headed, and sprung into arguments easily. Clarke didn’t mind too much. She would argue with the boys in her class all the time – so she needed a new competition; someone older with quicker comebacks and a seething expression. She wondered at night how such an angry look could still be so beautiful.

 

**Day Fourteen**

Bellamy got stir-crazy, being in a different place to his friends. He would phone them in the afternoons, when he wasn’t hanging out with Clarke, by her tire swing or down at the lake. After the phone calls, he would tell her the funny things his friends said and she would giggle too, even if she didn’t understand the context.

In the mornings, Abby and Jake would take Clarke out to do something in town, and Aurora would take Octavia and Bellamy. He wouldn’t admit it, but she saw him looking out his bedroom window, waiting for her to return in the same way she did for him. The afternoons were often spent together, and in the evenings, the two families would convene in the gardens, and have dinner together. The adults might drink a little and Clarke would take Bellamy down to the water and teach him to swim.

She held his hands in the water, guiding him out into the centre of the shallow area, and relished in those moments of his touch. She always liked human contact; she liked holding hands with people and having them hug her. Bellamy was no different. At first, he would stiffen at her touch, but he moved into them by the end of the second week. He stopped minding completely.

“Where’s your dad?” She asked him, in the water. They swam in gentle circles, not trying properly, but just to keep moving.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I never met him.” Clarke furrowed her brow.

“But you must have, if Octavia is nine years younger than you.” He tilted his head – which was the closest to a shrug he could get.

“We have different dads,” he replied. “And O’s walked out, too.”

 

**Day Twenty**

Bellamy and Clarke rode bikes down the promenade and she fell from hers. Through her tears she saw his gentle smile and she forgot about how he was angry that morning because he had to do his chores before coming out to play.

He pushed up the edge of her shorts, so he could see the scrape, dotted with red, and carefully swiped his thumbs across her cheeks.

“It’s just a scrape,” he told her. “I get them all the time.” Clarke sniffed and looked at the peelings of skin, feeling the tears well up again. “Hey, hey,” he said, shifting and sitting next to her. Bellamy wrapped an arm around his shoulder and she felt her head lull against his chest. “You’re going to be fine. It’ll hurt a bit for now, but when we get back, we’ll put a plaster on it and it’ll be good as new.” Clarke nodded and Bellamy helped her stand. She walked her bike back home, and he rode his slowly beside her.

 

**Day Twenty Three**

Clarke had thrown up in the night from food poisoning, and her mother looked after her, spread out on the sofa, watching TV. Bellamy visited in the late morning with a sad smile, and handed her a colouring book that he had seen earlier on. It was another Disney Princess one, to go with the other that she’d almost finished. Clarke smiled up at him.

“Princesses for a princess,” he told her with a shrug. His cheeks reddened a bit – as if he was self-conscious of having been caught being nice to another person.

“Thank you,” she told him, sitting up a little. He ducked his head and nodded. Jake’s footsteps thundered down the stairs and he clapped Bellamy on the shoulder when he saw him. Clarke’s father only spared a glance a slightly wider smile when he saw the colouring book in Clarke’s hands.

“You ready?” He asked Clarke’s friend. Bellamy nodded. “We’ll take lots of pictures,” he promised Clarke, kissing her on the top of her head. She nodded – but she wasn’t too sad about missing the History Museum. She was only sad about not getting to spend time with Bellamy. The boys left and returned a couple of hours later, with photos on Jake’s camera, that he told Bellamy he’d print out and give a copy to, and gifts from the gift shop.

Clarke held the tiny model of the emperor carefully, staring at it in awe. Jake went into the kitchen and Bellamy sat on the floor next to her on the sofa. She was surrounded by colouring pencils and her new book, a quarter of it finished.

“The emperors were like royalty,” he told her with a small smile. “They were men, yeah – but they were like kings and queens.”

“Really?” She asked, not turning her eyes away from the model. He nodded.

“Basically, he’s the equivalent of you,” he said. She furrowed her brow and turned to him, confused.

“What?”

“Well, you’re a princess, aren’t you?” He smiled.

 

**Day Thirty**

Bellamy and Clarke sat in her holiday home, eating ice cream. They sat on the sofa, his long legs splayed out over hers, with the tub between them and two spoons. They watched anything and everything and didn’t leave the house until the early evening when Bellamy jumped into the water, from the dock and Clarke followed with a squeal.

 

**Day Thirty Four**

Clarke sat under the porch in the evening, listening to the adults’ conversation. Octavia was asleep and Bellamy sat next to her, just as silently.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Abby said, unaware to the children listening. “Do Bellamy and Octavia have the same father?” Aurora laughed a little.

“I don’t mind at all,” she said. “And no, they don’t. Octavia was a happy accident,” she explained. Clarke watched Bellamy’s expression as they talked, but it was blank and empty. “And when I told the father, he wanted nothing to do with us anymore.” There’s silence for a moment before she continues. “Bellamy’s dad – well, I was married to him. And I was about four months pregnant when he slaps the divorce papers down in front of me and walks out.”

There’s just quiet and Bellamy’s expression is annoyed. Like he’s angry at his father, and at Octavia’s. Clarke reaches out and takes his hand, and watches as Bellamy looks to her, surprised. She doesn’t smile, and they continue to spy on the adults in silence.

“So, you raised them on your own?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Aurora responded.

“I don’t think I would be strong enough to do something like that,” he continued.

“Ah, you never know,” Aurora replied, a smile in her voice. “Strength comes out when you need it. And, apparently, I didn’t need it until Bellamy was born.”

 

**Day Thirty Nine**

They were leaving the next day. Both families were packing up – getting ready to head home to their two towns, over a hundred miles from one another. Clarke cried on her own about it, and hugged Bellamy tightly throughout the day. He had returned the favour and whenever they weren’t packing, they were in their swimming costumes, swimming in the lake.

It was the first day she’d seen him properly angry, though. Well – she didn’t see it. But she heard the plate smashing, and the sounds of yelling from his house, as she stepped out onto the porch at the back, clutching a washing basket to bring in the dry clothes. She carefully unpegged them as Octavia’s crying rang out, placing each peg into their own basket and putting the clothes away.

The door slammed next and Bellamy stomped out, bare foot and shirtless, into the back garden. She found herself peeking out of the corner of her eyes – even though she’d seen him shirtless for the entire month beforehand. But she found it interesting, at nine, how his freckles weren’t just on his face, but in a wave from his left shoulder and down the one side, becoming more and more sparse as they reached his hips.

Bellamy paused for a moment before coming over to her.

“Are you coming back next year?” He asked quietly. She nodded, not smiling, because she didn’t know if he’d want to see a smile, when he was angry.

“We’re here every year,” she told him. Bellamy nodded.

“Okay,” he said. He helped her unpeg the clothes from the washing line before going back to his house, where his sister’s crying had stopped, and a few minutes later, she looked out of her bedroom window to find him with a dustpan and brush, carrying out the broken remains of a plate and dumping it in the bin.

 

**Day Forty**

Their cars were packed and Clarke wore the bright pink _Beauty and The Beast_ t-shirt that she’d worn on the first day she arrived. In the next drive way over, Bellamy shoved the final suitcase into the boot of the car, and slammed the door shut. Aurora carried Octavia out and Bellamy took her from his mother. Jake and Abby walked over to Aurora to say goodbye, and Clarke followed first, hugging her legs and saying her farewell.

Aurora kissed the top of her head and told her that they’d be back next summer. Clarke couldn’t wait for the next one to come around – she wanted it to be the next year, right then. She went to Bellamy next, who was strapping in Octavia into her car seat. Clarke held Octavia’s hand and let the toddler play with her fingers.

“Bye, Tae,” Clarke sighed, kissing her cheek before looking to Bellamy. He watched her with a sad expression; something of regret and slight annoyance – like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Throughout the summer, their contact had been mostly initiated by Clarke; she was the one who pulled him out into the water by his hands, and hugged him when she said goodbye, and drew pictures on his arms. He would only wrap an arm around her shoulder when he had to, or take her hand to pull her through crowds.

Now, though, he was the one who surged forward and embraced her. He was the one who wrapped his arms tightly around her small body, as she stumbled back a little, surprised. Clarke then held him back, as tightly as she could, as her head fit into the crook of his neck.

“Bye Clarke,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Bye Bellamy,” she replied. She didn’t want to cry again about leaving him. For the forty days she’d known him, he was her best friend, and she couldn’t bear to let go.

Bellamy pulled away first with a sad smile.

“I’ll see you next summer, right?” Clarke nodded immediately.

“Clarke!” Abby called from the other side of the car. “We’ve got to get on the road now if we want to avoid the traffic!” Clarke nodded.

“Coming!” She looked back to Bellamy, and wrapped him in another, quick hug.

“I’ll see you next summer,” she promised him. Bellamy ducked down and pressed his lips to her cheek, quickly and barely there, as if it never happened at all. Then he was standing up again, tall and lanky like he had been throughout the summer – all hard edges and strong lines.

“Goodbye Princess,” he told her, squeezing her hand as she walked away. Her hand dropped as they moved apart, and Jake and Abby called their goodbyes to Bellamy over the roof of the car. She climbed into her seat, doing up her seat belt and fingering the fabric of her _Beauty and The Beast_ t-shirt. When Clarke had worn it a week or so before, Bellamy had laughed.

 _How ironic,_ he had told her. She had furrowed her brow, looking up at him. _Beauty and The Beast,_ he explained. _The story of Clarke and Bellamy._ He had sped up on his bike only a moment later, and she didn’t have a chance to question it. So even now, she looked out of the window, watching him and waving goodbye, as he climbed into the car, and hers pulled out, both going in different directions for the next year.


	2. Summer Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!
> 
> So I decided to give it another go, and continue the story. I don't know how many years it'll be going on for, and it feels a little like a character study at times, but I'm enjoying writing it. So, when I stop enjoying it, I'll probably finish.
> 
> Please enjoy and DEFINITELY TELL ME if you want more chapters - possibly how many chapters you'd want to see? I work mainly off comments, and if you guys don't help out, I don't know what to write. Thanks.
> 
> Enjoy. (Or, try to.)

**Day Two**

Clarke sat on the back of the porch, overlooking the lake, in wait. Her father was still crashing about inside the house, trying to find his big surprise, and Bellamy was walking over from his home. She smiled widely when she saw him; a gap-tooth grin of her last baby tooth; the right centre, having fallen out a couple weeks beforehand. Bellamy smiles at the sight of her, and lands himself on the wood.

“What’s he doing?” He asked, resting his arms on his knees.

“Trying to find our surprise,” Clarke replied with a shrug. She was ten, a year older than when she had first met Bellamy Blake, and absence made the heart grow fonder. He was still beautiful to her; his hair had grown a little longer, and he was slightly taller, too – but Bellamy was still the same as she remembered; same skin tone, same freckles, same dark eyes. The only thing different about him was that there was no period of awkwardness between them – the day before, when she’d stepped out of the car on arrival, he’d already been there, welcoming her with a hug.

Now they waited together; the day before being spent telling each other everything that could have possibly happened over the year before. They hadn’t seen each other once, but she knew that Jake and Aurora phoned each other every now and again, and so she’d hear of Bellamy making the top class in school, or when he had his first girlfriend (she was a little ashamed to admit that she sulked for a day and a half after hearing that).

“Got it!” Jake cried happily, emerging out of the back door. The two kids turned to look at him; his large smile and lines that the fairies gave him, by his eyes. In his hand he jingled a set of keys, held between his fore finger and thumb.

“What’s that?” Clarke asked. Jake Griffin just tapped his nose and bounded down the steps ahead of them. Clarke and Bellamy watched him for a moment before he turned and gestured with his arm. “Come on! We haven’t got all day!” They raced after him, after that.

His surprise actually consisted of the small boat that he’d purchased; white, with a motor and seats, that was currently tied up to the dock, a few houses down. He said they’d park it by their own one from now on – but it would have ruined the surprise otherwise. Bellamy held out a hand and pulled Clarke into the boat, and she let go a moment after she should have, but didn’t really mind because he didn’t seem to care, either.

They sat together on the boat as Jake started it up, and Clarke squealed when they moved quickly, and held her hand out for the spray of water. She sat nearby as Jake nodded Bellamy over, and taught him the controls, and she grinned widely when he took the steering wheel and manoeuvred them through the lake.

“Dad!” Clarke called out over the engine. “Can I steer?” Jake smiled warmly at his daughter, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Bellamy turned and started circling the lake; parallel to the shore.

“Bellamy’s steering right now – but I’ll teach you, too, okay?” Clarke nodded happily and watched her friend, his face caught in concentration; all serious, apart from his tongue, the tip of it peeking out between his lips.

 

**Day Nine**

Bellamy had changed a little since the year before. Clarke hadn’t noticed it, but he was a little more apprehensive about playing with her in the garden. He was thirteen; a teenager, and according to him, had a large group of friends. But he would always play with her, after the hesitation – because they were friends and he cared about her, no matter what anyone thought. Clarke pushed him in the tire swing, and wondered why he brought up his friends so often, if they were miles away. Then again, she liked talking about hers, too.

“Which one’s Murphy?” She asked, climbing up the tree that the tire swing hung from.

“The _ass_ \- the really mean one,” Bellamy amended, shooting a short glance towards Clarke, before the house, where their parents were no longer in sight.

“And why are you friends with someone who’s mean?” She asked next, lodging her foot in a gap between two branches and pulling herself up. Below, in the swing, Bellamy shrugged.

“Because he’s alright, sometimes. And his parents are never home, so we can do whatever we like at his house.” Clarke nodded carefully.

“Is he ever mean to you?” Bellamy laughed.

“What, are you going to beat him up if he is?” Clarke scowled, but he couldn’t see that.

“I could!” She called back. “I’m strong enough!”

“Sure you are, Princess,” he replied, a laugh still in his voice. “But Murphy’s bigger than you.”

“People shouldn’t hit girls,” Clarke tried to remind him, nudging her way along a branch. Her feet dangled in the air, and she gripped both the branch she sat on and the one above, for support.

“People shouldn’t hit people,” he told her. Clarke shrugged the best she could from her branch.

“Can’t boys take it, though?” She asked.

“You think boys are stronger than girls?” She shook her head, and glanced down to find Bellamy looking up at her. “Then why should boys get hit, but not girls?” Clarke didn’t reply, just kept shuffling. The branched wavered a little and she shuddered, trying to find her balance. Below, Bellamy’s arms automatically stretched out, in case she fell.

“Have you ever been hit?” She asked when her breathing slowed again.

“Yeah, haven’t you?” She shook her head.

“I’m ten. And a girl. People don’t hit ten year old girls.” Bellamy laughed. “Why’d you get hit?”

“It was a fight,” Bellamy shrugged. “Sort of what happens.” Clarke paused – she’d seen fights between the boys in her school. They happened quite a lot; and the kids would hit each other until the teachers broke them apart. She saw blood a couple of times, too. She didn’t like imagining that, but replacing one of them with Bellamy; she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting him.

“Did you win?” She heard his laugh again, and looked down as he took a couple of steps back, so he could see her properly.

“Of course, Princess.”

 

**Day Thirteen**

“You have less princess t-shirts, this year,” Bellamy said as Clarke stepped down the front steps of her house. He was waiting at the bottom with their bikes.

“I grew out of them,” she shrugged.

“The t-shirts or the princesses?” Clarke didn’t reply, just sat on her bike and pushed off.

 

**Day Seventeen**

Abby held her daughters hand as they wandered through the town. In the woman’s other hand were shopping bags that she swung lightly as they walked. Like most days, the sky overhead was bright and blue, with dots of clouds that Clarke tried to count as they walked. She scowled a little when she counted one of them twice, and started again.

“What’s Bellamy doing today?” Abby asked, pulling her along to a window, where she looked at the items on display.

“Octavia’s ill,” Clarke told her. “He’s looking after her.” Abby glanced down with her brow furrowed.

“What about Aurora?”

“She had to go shopping,” Clarke shrugged.

“So Bellamy’s looking after her all on his own?” The young girl nodded, tearing her eyes away from the clouds and to the window, where three mannequins stood, dressed in clothing fit for summer.

“His sister, his responsibility,” was all she said, briefly remembering the times he’d said that before.

 

**Day Eighteen**

Aurora banged on their door early. Clarke groaned, turning to the digital clock. It said it was only half five, but she still heard her mother’s footsteps – different from her father’s in their lightness – treading down the stairs. Clarke pulled herself up, and looked out the window. Out on her neighbour’s driveway, Bellamy stood with a crying Octavia. He looked dishevelled, and as if he hadn’t slept at all. Clarke swallowed before thumping down the stairs, herself.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Aurora was saying as Abby hurriedly followed her from the house. Abby Griffin was a surgeon – one of the best in the country. She was very focused, and nearly always at work, saving up all of her days so she could spend the entire summer holidays with her family. And no matter what, the hospital wasn’t to call her. She hadn’t done three seventy eight hour shifts every fortnight for the rest of the year, just to be called in on her time off.

Clarke slipped out the door before it shut, and watched from the porch as Abby and Aurora jogged over to Bellamy. Abby touched Octavia’s forehead, and said something too low for Clarke to hear. Only Bellamy saw her, and when they headed inside to find a first aid kit, he nodded with his head to follow.

In Bellamy’s house, everything went quickly. Jake arrived ten minutes later, and put the kettle on, as Abby went through the quickest test she could and Aurora explained absolutely everything she knew about her daughter – health wise, and her behaviour of the previous few days. After twenty minutes, where Clarke and Bellamy sat, motionless, side by side on the sofa, Abby nodded definitely.

“She needs to go to the hospital,” she told her friend. “I think it might just be the flu – which is bad enough in small children, but I can’t be sure.” Aurora nodded quickly, scooping up her child. Abby hustled her out of the house and Clarke could hear the doors of the car opening and slamming very soon after. Jake handed Clarke a mug of milk, like she drank every morning for breakfast (“strong bones,” her mother would tell her) and Bellamy a mug of tea.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Jake told the two children, before leaving the house. Then, Bellamy placed his mug on the side, squarely on a coaster, she noted, before pulling his legs up to his chest. Clarke put down her drink, too, and held her arms out. Her friend didn’t even look before leaning into her embrace, and they sat there, without moving, for the next hour or so; Bellamy’s skin pressed against Clarke’s, and his hair brushing across her face.

Even in that quiet moment, where she was worried out of her mind, Clarke couldn’t help but notice that he smelt of the ocean, even though they were so far away from it.

 

**Day Nineteen**

Octavia had a virus. So Bellamy was instructed to pack his backpack with some clothes, and he would be staying at Clarkes – to avoid him catching it as much as possible. The morning after they had run off to hospital, Clarke woke up, aware that Bellamy was sleeping in her bed.

She had offered it to him, and had made a home on the sofa – more comfortable as a bed than it looked. When he wandered down, her eyes widened a little at his hair in disarray and his clothes askew. He was fascinating to her; the way that he could still look so put together, so fully-made, and yet also look as if he hadn’t slept in a month. She followed him into the kitchen, and pulled the bowls out of the cupboard while he got out the cereal.

“Do you want to go swimming today?” She asked. Like the summer before, they went swimming in the afternoons and evenings – but with his mother out of bounds with his sister, Clarke assumed that regular scheduling was on hold. Bellamy shrugged, and poured the cornflakes into the two bowls. “We could ride our bikes?” She suggested next. He didn’t reply.

There was a slump in his shoulders and a permanent expression on his face that she couldn’t decipher. His face was blank – but it was also sad, as if there was some great depression, lingering behind the surface. She didn’t know what he was feeling, so she looked at the two cereal bowls and nudged her pink one towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You can have my favourite bowl,” she told him, picking up the white one instead. She took the spoons from the drawer and handed him one, turning away too quickly to catch the slight raise of the corner of his mouth.

 

**Day Twenty Three**

Octavia was past her virus and Bellamy had gone back to his home. Clarke looked around her bedroom; pale purple walls, with pictures of the lake, blue tacked up. Her bed was made perfectly – which made it obvious that Bellamy had been there, because she didn’t make her bed and he did. Her curtains were wide open, splaying late morning light onto her floor.

“Hey, you wanna go into town?” A voice said from behind her. Standing in the doorway was Bellamy, looking like he did every other day; with unruly hair and his hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts. Clarke nodded and followed him downstairs, where she toed on her sandals and followed him out.

Aurora waited outside with Octavia, and Clarke followed along with the family, wondering briefly what it was like to not have a father. They still seemed content though, in the same way that the Griffins were; so she assumed it couldn’t be that bad at all.

Aurora told them they had an hour, when they reached town, and Clarke and Bellamy ran through the streets together, laughing. They went into a sweet shop and spent far too much money there, before finding themselves in a gift shop. Clarke wandered through the aisles on her own, and smiled at the miniature figurines of Roman warriors. The town’s biggest attraction was probably the museum that Bellamy and her father had visited the year before, so they stocked the gift shop with some Roman-themed gifts, and a couple for the Egyptians and what Bellamy called the Aztecs. Clarke smiled as she looked at the items, remembering the emperor statue that Bellamy had given her the year before - that still sat, dead centre of her ornaments shelf.

She met Bellamy as he was paying, and they found themselves walking home with Aurora not long later. In the evening, they went swimming while their parents laughed on the porch, holding glasses of wine and telling jokes about their lives. When they were called back in, it was dark, with a black sky above, dotted with bright white stars. She hadn’t seen the stars before that moment, and smiled when she noticed them.

Clarke’s eyes fixed on a single star, though – the one she had spotted first.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,” she whispered. “I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” In her head, she wished that they didn’t have to go home at the end of the summer, just like she did every night. She wished that she and Bellamy could stay in the same place, and her summer best friend could be her best friend, all year round.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

Bellamy walked into Clarke’s room without knocking, while she sat on her bed with a colouring book. She was ten, sure – grown up with a bedtime of eight o’clock whenever it wasn’t the summer – but her colouring books were something she didn’t want to give up, just yet. Bellamy smiled at the sight of her – it was the first time he’d seen her colour, that summer, because they had been so busy with everything else they were doing.

“Hey,” he greeted, plopping down on the end of her bed. She smiled at him; the same way she smiled every time she saw him.

“Hi,” she replied. Bellamy watched her colour for a moment; the image of Tinkerbell and Peter Pan becoming brighter by the second.

“I got you something,” he said finally. Clarke’s pencil stopped moving and she lifted it from the page as she looked up. Her brow furrowed as she studied his face; a little hopeful with a small smile.

“Why?”

“Because you let me sleep in your room when O was ill,” he told her with a shrug. He held out a carrier bag and Clarke gently set down her pencil before taking it from him. She took a peek inside, to find folded up cloth. When she pulled the light blue fabric out, it unravelled to form a t-shirt. Her eyes lit up as she looked over it; a simple silhouette of a white crown, with words, in the same colour underneath: Princess Clarke.

Clarke lowered her arms as she looked to Bellamy, her face breaking out in a grin. Then she lunged forward, wrapping him in a tight hug as he laughed.

“Thank you,” she said into his shoulder.

“Anytime, Princess,” he replied.

The t-shirt was actually too big for her, but she laughed when she found out. Bellamy looked at her with raised eyebrows at her gleeful face.

“It means I can wear it for years,” she explained to him. He just laughed again, pretending that was his idea the entire time, and not that they didn’t have another size.

 

**Day Thirty One**

“If I’m a princess,” Clarke started slowly, drifting in the water on her back. “What does that make you?”

“I dunno,” Bellamy replied. “What am I?” Clarke thought of the time she fell off her bike, and he dried her tears, and walked her home. She thought of the plasters he’d put on her skinned knee, on her elbow when she cut it, or her forearm when she scraped it against a tree too roughly. She thought of the time he caught her, when she fell from the tree behind her house, and when he gave her ten pence of his money, because she didn’t have enough.

“A knight,” she announced.

“A knight?”

“Yeah, a knight in shining armour – every princess needs one, and you can be mine.”

 

**Day Thirty Two**

She steered the boat, with Bellamy standing beside her, laughing.

 

**Thirty Four**

They went to the museum, and Clarke bought Bellamy a mug with the image of a knight on the side. He hugged her when she gave it to him.

 

**Day Forty One**

Clarke held him tightly, like she had the year before, and Bellamy kissed the top of her head as they broke apart. Her car pulled away first, and they waved at each other until Bellamy was nothing but a spec in the distance.


	3. Summer Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is still happening, apparently. And I have the next chapter written out, too. Lives are officially happening and stuff - no longer just cute fluff, but cute fluff with a little bit of plot.
> 
> I have no idea how long this is going to be - I have a general plot formed in my head, but I have no clue as to how many years of their lives it'll cover.
> 
> Also, a thank you to all my amazing readers! You guys have been amazing so far, and I would love it if you could keep it up - comments are super appreciated and there's still a kudos button, if you haven't hit it yet!
> 
> Enjoy. (Or not. Whatever.)

**Day One**

Clarke sat in the front seat of the car; passenger side. A year ago, she would very rarely do this, but since January, Clarke had been upgraded. She and her mother drove to the lake house on their own, barely talking besides asking if the other wanted a different radio station. Clarke didn’t know if it would be strange, coming to the lake house without her father – but it turned out that it would be.

Then again, everything was strange without Jake Griffin.

A five year old Octavia was the first to be spotted, jumping up and down with glee at the sight of Abby and Clarke pulling into the drive way. When the engine stopped, Octavia ran around to Clarke’s side of the car, and the older girl lifted her up into a hug when she opened to door.

“Hey, Tae,” Clarke smiled.

“Clarky!” Octavia cried out, flinging her arms around the blonde’s neck.

“I missed you, too.” She didn’t even put Octavia down when Bellamy walked over, wrapping her up in a hug; all long arms and tight holds. Octavia squirmed heavily in Clarke’s arms but she didn’t put her down; Clarke didn’t want to let go of the Blake children.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” Bellamy mumbled into Clarke’s hair – she’d grown it out past her shoulders this year, and Bellamy fingered the tips of it as he held her.

“It’s okay. The phone calls really helped,” she told him, squeezing as tightly as she could with a five year old between them.

 

**Day Three**

Octavia wore arm bands and Bellamy held her to his chest as they floated through the water together. It was quieter without Clarke’s father around, and the two mothers spent their time together, talking in hushed tones.

That morning, Clarke had resolved that Octavia needed swimming lessons – she thought it unacceptable that Bellamy had to wait until he was twelve to receive any, and so Octavia should learn now, when she was a child.

Bellamy’s little sister splashed a lot, and squealed in the water, and Clarke laughed for what felt like the first time in forever, as her arm swung up and slapped Bellamy in the face.

 

**Day Six**

The five clambered onto the boat that Jake had bought the summer before, and Bellamy and Clarke took turns steering it. Around lunch, they turned off the motor and the five of them had a picnic on the water, sharing out the sandwiches that Aurora had packed earlier on.

Octavia only threw one sandwich into the water – “for the fishys!” – and Clarke sat beside Bellamy, their legs pressed up against one another. She looked at him in the same way she had, both of the years beforehand; in utter awe. But now she tried to tone it down. Clarke was eleven, she realised that people could see her expressions, and when her mother had winked, a couple days before leaving for the lake house, over Clarke seeing Bellamy again, she realised that her feelings weren’t as secret as she thought them to be.

Clarke only watched him out of the corner of her eyes, now; he was no taller, but slightly broader, and his hair was shorter than she had ever seen it before. His voice was a little deeper, and she recognised it so easily now; since she was given a phone when she turned eleven, and they called every Saturday.

Octavia climbed onto Clarke’s lap, and whispered in her ear.

“Where’s your daddy?” Octavia asked. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek.

“He’s not here,” she replied. Octavia nodded.

“Is he in the water?” Clarke studied the girl for a moment; lighter skin that her brother, and lighter hair, too. They had the same shape eyes, though, even though hers were green. Her hair was cut by her shoulders, and she had a full fringe, like most little girls do. Clarke found herself nodding; Octavia’s large eyes staring at her.

“Yes, he’s in the water,” Clarke told her. Octavia nodded, and looked around the picnic. She slid off of Clarke’s lap and picked up an apple. Then she sat on the seat by the side of the boat and threw it into the water.

“Octavia!” Aurora called out, a little annoyed. “Why did you do that?”

“Because Clarke’s daddy is in the water, and he needed lunch, too,” Octavia replied happily. No one argued as Octavia seated herself in Clarke’s lap again, and the blonde hugged the little girl tightly.

 

**Day Twelve**

Rain beat against the windows of Clarke’s house, and she stared at it, expressionless. They were going to go to town – but the weather called for a change of plans. Clarke sat on the sofa, and then changed to lying on it; still not long enough for her body to reach from end to end. She closed her eyes with a sigh, thinking that if her father were there, he would have still found something for them to do, anyway.

Her hands fingered the hem of her t-shirt – the blue one that Bellamy had given her the year before. It was still too big for her, but she found herself wearing it often; more so since her father died and she needed something that could comfort her. If it wasn’t the summer, and wasn’t so hot, despite the rain, she would be wearing her father’s green zip up hoodie, too – just like she had been during the winter. It was massive on her, but continued to smell like him, despite the number of washes. And even though she knew that it would be too hot to wear it, Clarke had stuffed it into her suitcase anyway.

The front door swung open suddenly, and Clarke’s eyes snapped open. Bellamy had run over from his house, but his hair was still dripping onto the floor. She watched him toe of his shoes as the front door shut, before he padded across the carpet in the living room.

“Morning,” he said, running a hand through his hair and grimacing when it came back wet.

“Hi,” Clarke droned. Bellamy looked at her with a sad smile, before bending down and lifting up her head. He sat down on the sofa and lowered her head onto his lap before speaking.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Clarke shrugged.

“I’m tired,” she replied. Bellamy just nodded, twirling a few strands of her hair around one finger.

“I like your t-shirt,” he told her. She cracked a smile at that, and so he did too, before he reached over the side of the sofa and picked up a remote, turning on the television. Clarke shifted onto her side so she could watch, and they sat together in silence, Bellamy fiddling with her hair, as the TV droned on.

Later, when Abby made them lunch, Clarke got up and found her hair in a French braid.

 

**Day Thirteen**

The ground was still damp from the day beforehand, and the grass stuck to her shoes as she walked down to the dock. She had just come off the phone with Monroe – one of her best friends from home. Monroe had told her that Wells and Harper were now dating, and Clarke felt something odd in her chest now she knew about it.

“You alright?” Bellamy asked. They had planned to go swimming now the sun was out, so he was just in swimming shorts, and Clarke wore her oversized ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt over her swimming costume. She nodded. “You don’t seem alright.” He sat down beside her, and Clarke glanced over, for once not staring at the trail of freckles, from shoulder to hip.

“Wells and Harper are dating,” she told him. He had heard the names before, but didn’t know who they were, so he paused before replying.

“Is that a bad thing?” She shrugged.

“Could be. I dunno – I feel weird about it.”

“Jealous?” He asked. She glanced over, expecting him to be smiling, but he looked sincere over his words. Clarke sighed and shrugged again.

“Maybe, I dunno. Everyone always told me that he liked me – not her. So I don’t get it.” She didn’t really want to mention that while she was unsure about her feelings towards Wells, her feelings towards Harper were much stronger.

“Do you like him?” She shrugged and Bellamy nodded, kicking his feet in the water gently. “Clarke, you’re eleven.”

“So?” She looked over and he was smiling a little.

“So everything seems big when you’re eleven. But everyone who was dating when they were that age, aren’t dating by the time they’re fourteen. It’s not lifelong, when you’re a kid.”

“You’re still a kid,” she pointed out. He nodded.

“That’s why I didn’t mind when the girl I liked started dating someone else,” he told her. “Because it’s not forever.” She nodded, understanding his words and smiling a little. It wasn’t forever. She didn’t know if she liked Harper or not – but it wasn’t forever. “You know what _is_ forever, though?” She raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Us, Princess.” She grinned at this. “No way am I letting you go – none of my friends understand the mug you gave me, anyway.” Clarke laughed, and peeled off her t-shirt, chucking it behind her on the deck where her flip flops were already.

“That’s because your friends are lame,” she told him with a grin. “And I’m way better than them.”

“Sure you are, Princess,” he told her with a smile, before his hand shot out and Clarke fell off the dock. She landed in the water with a splash, and kicking up to the surface, finding Bellamy still laughing on the dock, while she swam in the water. Her hand peeled the hair back from her forehead as she grinned.

“Come on!” She called out to him, and watched as Bellamy rolled his eyes before slipping into the water.

 

**Day Nineteen**

Bellamy and Clarke ate ice creams on a bench, while Octavia ate hers on the floor. She dropped her ice cream half way through, and Clarke watched as she burst into tears. Before Bellamy had the chance to move, Clarke ducked down and handed Octavia her ice cream instead, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Octavia smiled and said thank you as Clarke sat back up on the bench.

She looked over to Bellamy, whose expression she didn’t understand.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he sighed. “My sister-“

“Your responsibility, I _know_ ,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes. “Let someone help for a change, Bell.” He looked at her for a moment longer as Clarke realised that she’d never called him that before. Then he held out his ice cream to her.

“We can share mine, then,” he told her. Clarke smiled at her friend, and realised she liked the way his name sounded on her tongue – much better than Harper did, anyway.

 

**Day Twenty Two**

Bellamy took Clarke to the museum and they stared at the exhibit in silence. Clarke wasn’t sure how she felt – was she sad that Jake wasn’t here to do this with her? Or was she comforted by the fact that Bellamy was? Her father had only taken her to the museum once, because before that she never had an interest in it. But now, she wished that she had always wanted to go every summer – at least she would have been able to spend more time with him.

About half way around, she sniffed more, trying to stop herself from crying. Bellamy’s face was as sombre as hers – the only times he’d ever come here was with Jake Griffin, and when Clarke had been there, too, she realised that her father knew everything about every exhibit. He knew all of the facts, and gave little lectures about it all. Bellamy loved history, she knew – so having it around without the person who taught some to him must have been difficult too.

So, when she started sniffing more, feeling the tears well in her eyes, Bellamy caught her hand in his, and didn’t let go until they left.

 

**Day Twenty Five**

“I used to wonder what it would be like, without a father,” Clarke admitted, as they sat on the grass in the late afternoon. Bellamy had found a new trail that they hadn’t ridden their bikes along before, so she had followed him along the hills. Now, they sat, looking out over the town, with the breeze blowing into their faces.

“Why?” Bellamy asked. Clarke shrugged.

“Your family looked so happy without one,” she said. Bellamy raised his eyebrows.

“We’re not happy,” he told her. “I mean – yeah, we’re fine. But I want a dad, Clarke.” His voice was taking an edge she hadn’t heard in a while. Since the beginning of the summer, he’d gone out of his way to be nice – Clarke was still mourning, but she guessed it would come out eventually. “It’s really shitty without one.”

“I know,” she replied.

“I don’t get why the universe takes dads away,” he said, more to the sky than to her. “I wasn’t even born – how can a dad leave when the kid hasn’t even done anything wrong yet?” Clarke sat in silence as Bellamy’s voice grew louder. “And O! I _remember_ her dad! He was fine being a dad for me, but he couldn’t be one for her? That’s bullshit!” Bellamy never swore around Clarke – he always tried to hide that. “I wish I had a dad. You were lucky, Clarke – getting to have one that actually wanted you around. And he was even nice to me! And I wasn’t his kid! And the dad that I get just for the summer had to be taken, too!”

Bellamy flopped back onto the ground, chest heaving a little and a scowl on his face.

“It’s bullshit,” Clarke agreed, and the word felt sour on her tongue. Bellamy hadn’t been angry that summer – just sad and hopeful, alternating when necessary. The summer before, they were good enough friends. The arguments they had were minor; spats over the last hot dog or when he called her an idiot when she fell out of the tree. (He still patched her up, anyway.)

But now she and Bellamy had more common ground – a reason to be angry together, at the same thing. They both felt the hole where a father should have been, and they both glared at the sky as Clarke laid back next to him. Clarke thought it was worse for Bellamy though – because his father figures came and went. He had to learn to love each one, over and over, knowing that they would leave eventually, and he would have to find someone new. Clarke only had one – and while she doubted she could ever love another, she knew it was better, having one for eleven years of her life, than having lots for a couple of months at the most.

 

**Day Thirty**

Octavia paddled through the water towards Clarke, her armbands bright orange around her arms. When she reached Clarke’s outstretched arms, she smiled in relief.

“Good job, Tae!” Clarke exclaimed happily, bringing her in for a hug. Octavia clutched at Clarke’s shoulders, to keep her afloat. “Do you think you can make it back to Bell?” Octavia looked from Clarke to Bellamy, about five metres away and shook her head. “Are you sure?”

“Come on, O!” Bellamy called out. “You can make it back here!” Octavia squinted her eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Okay!” She announced, before carefully turning and using Clarke’s stomach as something to push off from. Clarke pretended it didn’t hurt.

Octavia splashed through the water, kicking hard and fast to reach her brother, and Clarke felt a pang in her chest. She wished she wasn’t an only child. She had once asked Abby why they hadn’t had another child, and her mother had to explain about the tumour in her womb, and that they had to take the entire womb out. Abby could have no more children, so there was Clarke, and Clarke alone.

While Clarke then felt lucky over simply being born – she also desperately wanted a brother or sister. And now, she wanted ones like Bellamy and Octavia; they trusted each other so fully and happily. She knew that Bellamy would never leave Octavia behind, and that’s what she wanted.

Octavia reached Bellamy just as the first raindrop hit Clarke’s face. She squinted up at the sky, listening as a couple more hit the water.

“It’s about to rain,” she said to Bellamy. He glanced up, and Octavia followed suit.

“We’re in the water,” Octavia said, as Clarke swam towards them. “We’re already wet.” Bellamy smiled a little.

“It’s not fun swimming in the rain,” he told her. “You come out of the water to get dry, and you just stay wet.” Octavia nodded, as if this was the answer she had been searching for.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Where’s my towel?” Bellamy smiled at his little sister, and swam them both over to the dock, where he helped her climb the ladder first, before going up himself. Clarke followed afterwards, and the three of them wrapped their towels around their bodies as they headed back towards the houses, Octavia clutching Bellamy’s hand.

“Mum’s out,” he said to Clarke, when she noticed that he didn’t go in the direction of his holiday home, but hers. She nodded, and opened the door, letting them both inside before shutting it.

They wandered through the house and Abby barely looked up from her newspaper.

“Please don’t track water through the house,” she told them, raising a pointed eyebrow while still reading.

“Sorry,” Clarke said, lowering her towels and wiping her legs and feet off. Next to her, Bellamy did the same, and Octavia copied her brother’s movements. Then they went upstairs.

In Clarke’s bedroom, Octavia wandered around, before climbing onto the bed and jumping on it. Clarke rummaged through her clothes and found a t-shirt that, while fitting her eleven year old self, could be a decent dress for Octavia, and handed it to Bellamy. He seemed to understand immediately, and caught Octavia, mid jump, to help her put it on.

“Do you have no princess t-shirts left?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Clarke held up the one he’d given her in response. “I don’t think that counts.” She shrugged.

“I’m eleven,” she told him. “I don’t wear Disney clothes anymore. No one who’s eleven does.” Bellamy rolled his eyes and Clarke ignored him, pulling on the ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt anyway. She searched through the rest of her clothes for some shorts, throwing stuff out on the floor to get it out of her way.

“This must be massive on you,” Bellamy said, lifting something up. Clarke barely spared him a glance, but noticed he was holding up her dad’s jacket to his body. She swallowed and nodded.

“Yeah, it is.”

“It would be massive on _me_ – why do you have it?” Next to her, Octavia rolled around Clarke’s bed, giggling to herself.

“It was dad’s,” she said quietly. Bellamy lowered the jacket.

“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head.

“No, don’t be. It’s fine.” Then she laughed a little to herself, rolling her eyes.

“What?” Bellamy asked.

“Nothing,” she said, before shaking her head, and resting back on her heels. “Just thinking that it would probably look better on you than it does on me, anyway.” He smiled a little but sat on her bed, still clutching the green fabric of the jacket.

“That’s not why you have it,” he told her. She nodded.

“It’s not.”

Later, Bellamy and Octavia ate dinner at Clarke’s, and Aurora was absent. Clarke didn’t know why and Bellamy just shrugged. In the evening, it was still raining and Bellamy sighed, resting his head back on the sofa.

“I don’t have a key, you know,” he told her. She looked up.

“What?”

“I don’t have a key, to get back in. And Mum’s not back yet.” Clarke paused before nodding.

“Oh. Okay.” Octavia was curled up on Abby’s lap, content to sleep there as Abby read her book. She glanced back over to Bellamy, still shirtless in his swimming shorts.

“Aren’t you cold?” She asked. He shrugged.

“A little, but you all only have girl clothes.” He wrinkled his nose up and she laughed.

“Hold on.” Clarke went upstairs, and searched through her clothes again, finding the familiar green fabric. She paused for a moment before shrugging. He needed it as much as she did. Then, she bounded back down the stairs again. When she reappeared in the living room, she chucked the jacket to him, which he caught even though he hadn’t been paying her any attention.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked, when realising what she’d thrown at him. She noticed her mother look up from her book and watch the interaction. Clarke nodded, settling back down on the sofa next to him.

“I’m sure,” she responded. Bellamy hesitated when shrugging on the jacket, just in case she changed her mind. But Clarke didn’t. She thought about what he had said on the hill – he never had father figures that stuck around. And Clarke’s father planned to, but couldn’t. Like she had so many times since January, Clarke cursed all of the drunk drivers in the world. But she couldn’t help but watch as Bellamy zipped up the jacket and relaxed into it, the sleeves going past his hands as he curled his fingers around the fabric.

Clarke was right, though. It looked better on him than it did on her.

 

**Day Thirty Four**

Bellamy and Clarke argued over her not telling him when Octavia scraped her knee. They yelled at each other because he had a right to know when his little sister was hurt, and Clarke told him that he should just trust her.

“We all need help sometimes, Bell!” She all but yelled. “Let me help you!”

 

**Day Thirty Five**

Bellamy arrived at her front door in the morning with an apology and a hug. Both of which she happily accepted.

 

**Day Thirty Six**

It was raining and Clarke cheated at Monopoly.

Bellamy swore he would never play it with her again.

 

**Day Thirty Seven**

Clarke packed up her clothes, carefully and precisely. She searched the entire house for her father’s jacket, but couldn’t find it. She went through all of the washing, and every suitcase, but still came up empty-handed.

She cried for ten minutes before realising that the entire house was as comforting as the jacket. That Jake bought her the clothes that she was wearing, and made her the bracelet that she never took off, and bought her the bed sheets, and played basketball with the basketball she had at home.

Jake Griffin was all around her, and Clarke, although eleven, realised that she didn’t need a jacket to remember him by. She would remember him, anyway.

 

**Day Thirty Eight**

Abby packed the car, and both Griffins said goodbye to the Blakes, like they did every year. Clarke hugged Aurora first before saying goodbye to Octavia. The youngest Blake almost cried into Clarke’s shoulder, before running over to Abby to say her farewells. Then Clarke held Bellamy tightly, like she always did.

“Bye, Bell,” she said sadly.

“Bye, Princess,” he replied. She pulled away and watched Abby climb into the car. “I’ll call you on Saturday, alright?” Clarke nodded. Saturday. They always phoned on Saturdays.

“Don’t have fun here without me,” she told him. Bellamy nodded.

“My last night here will be dire, I promise,” he grinned. She smiled back and turned to head towards the car. “Oh, Clarke!” Bellamy called out. She stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. “I forgot about this entirely.” Bellamy opened his car’s car door and pulled out a jacket. Clarke’s eyes widened at the sight of the green fabric. She had searched everywhere for it – and Bellamy had it all along. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to give it back when you let me wear it last week.” Clarke took a few steps towards him, where he held it out for her.

And in her mind, she made a split-second decision that she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

“Keep it,” she told him. Bellamy’s eyebrows raised immediately.

“ _What_?”

“Keep it,” she repeated.

“But, it was your dad’s…” he said, stumbling over his words a little. Clarke nodded.

“Dad had a lot of possessions,” she replied. “And he had a lot of jackets, too.”

“But-“

“Keep it, Bell,” she told him firmly. Bellamy hesitated before nodding, drawing his arm back towards him. She watched his hand tighten around the fabric. “It looked better on you, anyway.”


	4. Summer Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can honestly say that I have no idea how long this story is going to go on for. It was originally just a way to get over writers block. 
> 
> Your comments have been absolutely FANTASTIC and I love reading them! So please send me lots more!
> 
> If you're wondering, all of my other social media - tumblr, twitter, instagram - are all bowlingfornerds, too. So, if you want to watch me live tweet bad TV shows, obsess over The 100, put up bad selfies and talk about how difficult writing is, those are the places for it. You can also send me prompts and I'll give them a go, posting them on here and tumblr.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Or don't.
> 
> Your call.

**Day One**

Clarke was in the backseat again. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. Next to her, Kyle had his headphones in, staring out the window, probably just as uncomfortable about the situation as she was. Kyle Wick was the son of Clarke’s mother’s new boyfriend. Well, not _new_ new. Jason Wick had known Abby Griffin for a couple of years, and had become an ‘item’ with her, in February. That was only five months ago. Five months, and somehow Abby had seen it fit to bring him and his son along on their annual family lake house trip.

To be fair, Clarke didn’t have anything against Kyle Wick – or, Wick, as he preferred to be called. He was alright; he didn’t bully her, and was pretty civil. When she’d seen him in school, he was loud and sarcastic, and if he wasn’t a year older than her, and a possible candidate to be her _step-brother_ – they would have gotten along quite well.

The lake house came into view and Clarke felt herself gearing up to race out of the car. The moment Abby parked, Clarke’s door was open and she was breathing in the fresh air, stretching her legs and grinning. The lake house felt a lot like a home to her – and she missed it every moment she was away.

“Clarke!” A voice called out. Her head span around, and Octavia was running down from the wrap around porch of her own house, and over the metaphorical property line, and into Clarke’s arms. Clarke picked her up and span around with a laugh.

“You’re getting heavy she complained,” dropping her back on the floor. Octavia lightly hit her, clutching at her legs.

“You’re back!” She cried out. Clarke nodded.

“How long have you been here?”

“We got here yesterday,” Octavia said, pulling away. “Bell has been mis-er-ab-le.” Clarke grinned at Octavia, sounding out the word.

“Why’s that?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“Because you weren’t here, silly!” Octavia span around then, looking for him. “I’ll go get him!” She ran off in the direction of the house, and Clarke felt herself smiling widely – much more than she had since she found out about Abby and Jason, being an ‘item’.

“Clarke, honey,” Abby said. “Help us unload the boot, and then you can go play with Bellamy.”

“Who’s Bellamy?” Wick asked, yanking his suitcase out of the car.

“My friend,” Clarke replied indignantly, pulling out her own. She dragged it up to the house and heard Abby telling Jason or Wick – maybe both – “the one she’s on the phone to every weekend”. Clarke dragged her suitcase inside and up the stairs, into her bedroom. She didn’t know where Wick is going to sleep, and frankly, she didn’t care , as long as it wasn’t in her room. Once she’s dumped her stuff, she jogged back down the stairs.

“Kyle, you’ve got the sofa for now,” Jason told his son. Wick nodded and Clarke can tell they’ve had this conversation before. He just rolled his suitcase to the wall and left it there as Clarke passed through the house and left through the back door.

The person she was looking for is already out there, swinging on the tire swing in wait. Octavia was no longer around, but Bellamy was, leaning back and staring at the branches of the tree above him. In the moment before he saw her, she looked at him carefully.

He was fifteen now – and his hair was longer again, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. She could just tell that he’d grown even taller – because all he seemed to do is get taller – and his back looked slightly broader than she remembered.

“There’s my knight,” she called out as she walked along the grass. Bellamy looked up and grinned, and Clarke wondered how different she must look. Her eyes were as blue as always, but she was taller and her face didn’t retain that chubby quality it used to. Her blonde hair was even longer than it was last time, having been growing it out for a couple of years, and the ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt that Wick always raised an eyebrow at was still too big for her, swinging just below the line of her shorts.

Her friend hurriedly climbed out of the tire and rushed over to her, enveloping her in a hug that she’d missed for the past year. Despite all of his hard edges, Bellamy’s hugs were all-inclusive; they were warm and gentle, yet tight and comfortable. He was a head or two taller than her, and yet she still fit perfectly in his arms, and if she went on tip toes, she could just about rest her head on his shoulder.

“You’ve grown,” she told him when they pulled away.

“I’m not the only one,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He fingered a strand of her hair for a moment and she smiled. “Is the boyfriend here, too?” Bellamy asked, dropping her hair. Clarke nodded with a frown.

“And the son.” Bellamy wrinkled his nose up, having known about the situation from their weekly phone calls.

“Are they really that bad?” He asked. Clarke shrugged.

“They’re fine – but Jason isn’t my dad, and Wick, well Wick’s okay. We just don’t get along great, yet.” Bellamy nodded, and his eyes fixed on a point behind her head. She turned to look and found Wick, himself, walking towards them. “Speak of the devil,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Abby wanted to know if the Blakes are coming for dinner tonight,” Wick said when he reached them. Clarke looked up at Bellamy who nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied. Clarke watched the two boys size each other up – Bellamy was taller, older and stronger, and Wick – well, Wick basically had wit and intellect to protect him in a fight. “This is him?” Clarke nodded.

“Bellamy, meet Kyle Wick. Wick, this is Bellamy.” The boys shook hands, but their gazes stayed guarded – which Clarke put down to just being a guy thing.

“Who was the kid?” Wick asked, though, looking to Clarke. She automatically smiled though.

“Octavia,” she replied. “Bellamy’s sister.”

Like the summers beforehand, Bellamy and Clarke jumped into the lake after dinner. They swam around for a while until Wick walked along the dock, holding Octavia’s hand.

“Bellamy!” His sister called out. Bellamy swam over.

“Yeah, O?”

“This is Wick!” She said happily. Clarke followed Bellamy through the water, and noticed that Octavia was wearing her armbands, seeing as she hadn’t been swimming in a year.

“Yeah, I know,” Bellamy smiled. Octavia turned to Wick.

“Are you going to swim with us?” She asked. Wick glanced around the others before looking back to her hopeful face.

“If you want me to,” he replied with a smile. She nodded rapidly before letting go of his hand and going to the ladder. Bellamy helped her down and into the water, as Wick yanked off his t-shirt and followed her in.

“You like Wick?” Clarke asked Octavia, when she swam over to the older girl. Octavia nodded.

“He gave me his desert, and he gave me a piggy back ride, and I like him,” she grinned. Clarke raised an eyebrow for a moment before nodding. She was sure that there was a saying, about kids being the best judge of character.

 

**Day Four**

Clarke woke up later than usual, and looked out her bedroom window. Out in the drive way, Bellamy and Wick were on their bikes. She watched for a moment longer before getting dressed and jogging down stairs. She looked out of the window again, and saw them riding off down the road.

 

**Day Five**

Bellamy decided to take Octavia into town, and invited Clarke along. She naturally said yes, but as she was half way out the door, Abby came over and asked her to invite Kyle, too, seeing as he didn’t know anyone in town. She sighed but did what she was told.

The four of them walked into town, and they showed Wick around. He tugged on Clarke’s hair in a friendly way and she noticed that he wasn’t that bad, really. Then he saw a game shop and nodded for Bellamy to follow him in. Bellamy headed in that direction, but Octavia didn’t want to go. Clarke watched Bellamy’s expression and sighed, before taking his little sister’s hand.

“It’s fine, we’ll wait out here,” she told him. He smiled thankfully and ran after Wick into the store. Clarke and Octavia sat on a bench and she listened as Octavia recounted every name of every student in her class at least three times.

 

**Day Seven**

Clarke walked out into the back garden and looked down at the lake, to find Bellamy and Wick already swimming.

 

**Day Eight**

Clarke sat on the sofa in her ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt, fresh from the washing line. She fingered the hem of it as she watched TV, draping the duvet that Wick had been using at night over her legs. She watched silently until Bellamy came in, and pulled the duvet off. She protested weakly until he lifted up her legs and sat down, so her legs were on his lap and the duvet was pulled over both of them.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asked quietly, so much so that she couldn’t tell if she’d heard it or not. But she shook her head anyway.

“No,” she replied, equally as quietly.

“Good,” was all he said in response.

 

**Day Nine**

Clarke and Bellamy went out on their bikes and they followed trails until they were up on the hill, overlooking the town.

“I notice you like Wick,” Clarke said as they laid their bikes on the ground and got comfortable in the grass. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” he responded slowly. Clarke nodded. “Do you not like him?”

“He’s fine,” she said mildly. Clarke remembered the time they were on the hill, the year before, when Bellamy had yelled and sworn over not having a father. She considered bringing it back up, seeing as Abby had so easily brought in another father figure for Clarke, but she knew it would make him angrier. Then again, she was annoyed that he was spending more time with Wick than her.

“Do you like Jason?” She asked quietly. Bellamy didn’t move.

“I haven’t really spoken to him,” he replied.

“Has he spoken to you?”

“No.” Clarke swallowed.

“He doesn’t speak to me much, either.” Bellamy nodded, and she felt the words he wanted to say linger in the air between them. _At least he’s there,_ she thought he would say. But the words, even in her mind, came out sour.

 

**Day Eleven**

Aurora decided to go out for a family day, and Abby and Jason went off on their own. Clarke and Wick were left to their own devices, Wick being left in charge as the older of the two, and being told not to go on the boat. The moment their parents left the house, he turned to her.

“There’s a boat?” Clarke’s face broke into a grin.

She took the keys from where they were stashed in the cupboard, and led him down to the dock behind the house.

“I didn’t think this was yours,” he said mildly, as she stepped in. Clarke had a flash of a memory of the first time she went out on the boat, and Bellamy helping her in.

“It was my dad’s,” she replied just as lightly. “He used to take me and Bellamy out on it.”

“So you know how to drive it?” Wick hopped into the boat and stood next to her by the controls. She rolled her eyes with a smirk, suddenly feeling as if she had the upper hand, for once.

“Of course,” she told him.

Driving the boat felt like a second nature; she put in the key, started up the motor and was off within seconds. Clarke knew about the thrust when the engine started, and was in a stance so she wasn’t knocked down. She took a little joy in seeing Wick flail backwards before regaining his balance. They drove around the lake, taking sharp corners and screaming at the top of their lungs. She slowed down enough to show Wick how to drive and then stood next to him as he tried it out.

Wick was a lot more reckless at driving than Clarke was.

He took sharper turns, and would wait until the last possible moment before running into the shore before yanking the steering wheel. So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Clarke when he didn’t turn on time.

The boat crashed into the shore in a loud manner. It broke through a dock on the opposite side of the lake, and practically exploded when it hit the ground. Clarke and Wick were thrown backwards, into the water, and the cold hit them first.

Clarke struggled for breath, trying to kick up from the bottom but finding it far deeper than the water by her house. She flailed in the lake before coming up for air, slapping the hair from her face and grabbing a hold of some floating wood.  She looked around frantically, from the burning wreck of the boat to the people, running towards her on the shore.

“Wick!” She yelled, spinning. “Wick!” Her voice was taking on a higher octave as red clouded the vision in her right eye. She briskly wiped it away, turning again. “Kyle! Where are you?! Kyle!” Her screams attracted more and more people and she didn’t care that they were calling out to her. “ _Kyle_!”

The tuft of blonde hair popped up first, a couple of metres to her left. She instantly recognised it and swam in that direction, not caring about the pain in her shoulder or legs. Her hands reached out and pulled the body upwards, and Wick spluttered in the air. His eyes were wide and afraid, and grasped a hold of Clarke’s shoulders. She held him close as she tread water, taking heavy breaths.

“You’re okay,” she told him quietly. “You’re okay.”

They were taken to hospital, because Wick couldn’t walk and Clarke hurt all over. From the hospital, their parents were contacted, and Wick and Clarke sat together on a hospital bed when they arrived. Next to Clarke, her sort-of step-brother’s left leg was covered in a cast, he had a couple of bruised ribs and generally looked like he’d been beaten up. Clarke, on the other hand, had a cut along her forehead, and her shoulder had to be put back in position from where it had been dislocated. Her right foot, however, had come out with a large gash along it, meaning she was cursed with a limp for the foreseeable future.

Abby tightly hugged her when she arrived, and Clarke winced. Next to her, Wick did the same.

“We’re okay,” Clarke said to her mother, brushing the hair from her face. It was sticky with blood and Clarke wiped it on her shorts, still damp from the lake.

“What happened?” Jason asked urgently.

“They didn’t tell you on the phone?” Wick replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They said it was an emergency,” Abby replied. “Which is code for _your kids have done something stupid and could have died_.” Her glare, sent at both of them, was enough for Clarke to look away.

“If they didn’t tell you, I’m sure it wasn’t important,” Wick said breezily with a shrug. Jason glared alongside Clarke’s mother, now.

“Clarke Clarissa Griffin, tell me what happened right this instant,” Abby gritted out. Clarke wasn’t as good at dodging questions as Wick was, and she sighed, leaning on the other blond’s shoulder.

“We don’t have a boat anymore,” is all she said. She blocked out the yelling; Abby’s rapid hand gestures and the punishments that she was sure she would be told again anyway. She only paid attention when she felt the vibrations of Wick speaking.

“It was my fault,” he said. Clarke sat up straight and looked around.

“What?” She asked. The adults didn’t spare her a glance.

“I was the one who asked to go on the boat, even though you told us not to, and I was the one that drove it into the bank.” Clarke heard a sharp intake of breath from Abby, and winced a little. But she couldn’t help but admire Wick a little – even if he had driven them into the ground.

“He’s lying,” she told them suddenly, because if Wick was taking the blame, then she should too. “I taught him to drive the boat and I was the one who did it.”

“She’s lying,” Wick butt in. “I drove the boat into the bank.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Clarke interjected, sending Wick a pointed look. “It was me. I did it.”

“You’re lying,” Wick told her. “She’s _lying_ ,” he said to the adults. “Why are you lying?”

“Because you lied first,” she replied, aware that she was, in fact, lying. Wick groaned.

“I didn’t lie first. You lied first. I was telling the truth – don’t do that Spartacus thing with me.” She furrowed her brow.

“What Spartacus thing?”

“That thing where one guy goes _I am Spartacus_ , to cover the actual Spartacus, and then another one says _I am Spartacus_ , and then another and another until everyone is saying it, and the real Spartacus can’t be found.”

“What does Spartacus have to do with this?” Clarke questioned into Wick’s rambling.

“Well the _I am Spartacus_ is replaced here with your lies-“

“Alright!” Abby announced, breaking up the argument. “You are both at fault. I explicitly said that you weren’t to go on the boat, and you did anyway. And now we don’t have a boat anymore, and there’s apparently a steaming pile of wreckage on the other side of the lake – also _both_ of your faults. So we’re going to go home, and sort this mess out, and both of you are going to apologise to the Blakes, too, because they used the boat as well.” Clarke swallowed at the thought of telling Bellamy that she – or, well, Wick – crashed the boat. She really didn’t want to see his expression.

When they returned home, Clarke could see the smashed dock and boat from the side of the house. She limped around to the porch steps of the Blakes and sat there, assuming that they would notice her eventually. Until they did, she watched the remainder of the smoke, and apologised first to her father, in her head, for crashing his boat. Because it was his, and now there’s one less thing of his that she can find comfort in.

Wick joined her after a few minutes and stumbled a little as he sat down, placing the crutches to the side.

“Haven’t even been here two weeks and I’ve broken my leg,” he sighed, irony laced in his tone. Clarke cracked half a smile.

“That’s the magic of the lake house,” she agreed.

“What was your first injury here?” She shrugged in thought.

“I drowned when I was four.” Wick laughed.

“Really?” Clarke nodded with a smile, glancing over to him, to find his eyes fixed on the wreckage across the lake.

“Yeah, my dad stopped paying attention for like, five seconds, and I had gone under. Wasn’t too bad, I guess.”

“Did you die?” She shook her head.

“I was unconscious for thirteen hours – I breathed in way too much water.” Wick laughed, and she liked how it sounded; so carefree and happy. She couldn’t help but laugh with him. A couple of minutes later, Bellamy walked out the back door.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He asked immediately, forgetting his rule about not swearing around her, and staring at both the gash on her forehead and the cast around Wick’s leg. They both shrugged in unison.

“We crashed the boat,” Wick said.

“You _what_?” Clarke hadn’t looked at him yet, and she stared at the wreckage.

“We ran it into the shore by accident,” she told him. “We’re sorry.” He paused.

“Why are you apologising to me?” He asked.

“Abby said you and your family liked using the boat,” he sighed. “Kind of ruined your summer too, probably.” Bellamy just laughed, and Clarke refused to look at him, when he wandered down the steps.

“It hasn’t ruined my summer. As long as one of you is still capable of swimming, and the other can watch O, I think we’ll be fine.” Clarke smiled at this, and looked over to her friend. Her eyes widened slightly, and Bellamy caught it, but he also noticed her smile widening, too. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug and he grinned as he returned it.

“I like your jacket,” she told him with a laugh. Bellamy glanced down at the green fabric.

“Yeah, I like it, too,” he agreed. “The old owner of it would be just as forgiving about you crashing the boat, too, if you’re wondering.” And Clarke smiled even more widely, because she had been.

 

**Day Twenty**

She and Wick played monopoly and Clarke cheated.

Wick swore he would never play it with her again.

He told this to Bellamy, who immediately agreed, and then hid the monopoly board, anyway.

 

**Day Twenty Three**

“Why did you grow your hair out?” Bellamy asked Clarke as she tied it up. They were sitting out on the dock, and the cuts on her foot and forehead were scabbing over.

“Because I like long hair,” she told him. “I’ve always wanted to grow it out.” He wrinkled up his nose.

“I like it better when it was shorter,” he told her.

“Well you’re lucky it’s not your hair, then.”

 

**Day Twenty Five**

Bellamy sat next to Clarke on the sofa in her house, with Wick’s duvet spread across their legs. He was out with his dad, and Abby was over with Aurora, leaving them to themselves.

“Were you avoiding me at the beginning of the summer?” He asked into the air. Clarke didn’t reply immediately, but continued to watch the programme on the TV. He had asked her the same thing, two weeks before. She had said _no_ , then.

“A little,” she admitted. Bellamy turned to her, obviously the answer he didn’t want.

“Why?” Clarke looked up at him, and then turned away when she saw his hurt expression.

“Because I thought you liked Wick more than me.” Clarke swallowed and they both stayed still for a moment before Bellamy laughed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side.

“I don’t like Wick more than you,” he told her. “It was just nice getting to know someone new.” She smiled as he tightened his grip a little. “Anyway, you’re like my sister – there’s no way of getting much closer.”

Clarke was slightly ashamed to admit that those words felt like a punch in the gut and her smile vanished immediately. She didn’t want to be his sister. She realised fully, for the first time, that her fascination with him wasn’t just interest, it was more than that. And she didn’t like that he didn’t feel the same way in return.

 

**Day Thirty Two**

Usually, she loved the sounds of Bellamy’s and Wick’s laughs. Today, they were awful.

“Stop it!” She protested, staring in the bathroom mirror with disdain. “Isn’t there some ice and peanut butter trick that can get rid of it?” She asked. In the mirror, Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

“I have no idea, Princess,” he replied, crossing his arms as he leant against the door frame. “But there’s only one solution I can think of.” Clarke held up the massive wad of gum that was stuck in her hair so she could see it in the mirror, and her face closed off in disgust.

“It’s not happening, Bell,” she told him, dropping the hair. “There’s got to be another way.”

“There isn’t, Clarke,” Wick said, shutting the toilet lid and sitting down with a sigh. “There’s only one way out of this mess.”

“But I spent so long growing it out!” She cried in complaint. “Like, two years!” Bellamy stifled his smile.

“And now you can do it all over again,” he replied.

“This is your fault,” she said, turning on him with an accusing finger. “You did this to me!” He laughed this time.

“I put gum in your hair?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “You seem to overestimate how much of a villain I really am.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You always hated the length of my hair, and this is your way of getting me to cut it off!” Wick laughed alongside Bellamy.

“He hated the length of your hair?” He questioned. Clarke nodded frantically.

“Couldn’t stand it!”

“Why?” She shrugged.

“He was probably jealous.”

“Oh yes, Princess, my dream in life is to have long golden hair,” Bellamy deadpanned. “And in that spirit, I decided to ruin the hairstyle for the one person I know who had it.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror. “Face it, Clarke – you’ve got to cut it off.”

It turned out Bellamy could cut evenly, even though she shivered at the metal of the scissors gliding across her neck. He cut it until it was slightly below her shoulders and he grinned.

“A haircut fit for a princess,” he joked. Clarke glared at him in the mirror. When her mother saw it, her eyes widened and she left the room, not even bothering to have a conversation over it – which, probably made Wick and Bellamy laugh even more.

 

**Day Forty**

It was different, going home this time. Because, while she left her summer best friend behind, still packing the car, she was also going home with a friend, too. He may have had a broken leg, and rambled and told bad jokes, but he wasn’t half bad. And Bellamy approved of him, which made it even more difficult for Clarke to dislike Wick.

She didn’t mind that he trashed the boat, not really. Because they both had their hand in that, and they came out, albeit a little injured, closer because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a sweet spot for Wick.
> 
> I also like the idea of him breaking his leg.
> 
> I'm still confused about my emotions, if I'm honest.
> 
> WARNING: Next chapter turned out as 7k long. I died.


	5. Summer Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7K chapter. Be prepared. (Also, the response to this story has been AMAZING. I've written the next chapter, but I'm hitting a wall over the seventh. So, if you've got anything you want to see happen, TELL ME.)

**Day Three**

“I hate this,” Clarke mumbled into her pillow, the morning light reaching through the window and hitting her legs.

“Don’t you think I feel the same way?” Wick asked from the next bed over. “I’m in a purple room, what the fuck, Clarke?”

“I was referring to you sleeping in my room,” she growled, turning her head to look at her soon-to-be step-brother.

“I think I preferred it on the sofa,” he mused.

“Why don’t you go back there, then?” Wick shifted heavily in his bed, only separated from hers by the night stand.

“But I’m having such a great time in casa de Clarke,” he deadpanned.

“You’re gonna be out on the street at this rate,” she retorted. Wick just chuckled.

“You wish.”

“Oh, how very much.”

A couple of hours later, they were grumbling next to each other, walking a couple of metres behind the love birds that were their parents. Wick’s hands were shoved deeply in his pockets, and Clarke took to chewing gum to give her something to do.

“You suck at that,” Wick mentioned when she failed once again to blow a bubble. Clarke just shrugged.

“You’re doing no better.”

“I don’t have gum.”

“Exactly.”

“Wow, you two are bitter,” Bellamy commented, walking in between them and placing an arm on each of their shoulders. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Understatement of the year,” Wick mumbled.

“What’s wrong, exactly?” He asked, pulling the two blondes closer to him. Clarke shrugged under his arms, noticing not for the first time that the sixteen year old must have worked out. Bellamy had grown even taller since he was fifteen, if that was possible, and his dark mop of hair was even more unruly than she remembered. His voice was constantly low, now, and his jaw was a strong line. All that softened him were his freckles, mapping constellations across his face and – Clarke knew – down his left side.

“They’re getting married,” Clarke said, pointing to their parents.

“I know that already,” Bellamy replied. “You phoned me the day you found out. And it wasn’t a Saturday, so I knew it was important.” Clarke rolled her eyes again.

“But they’re doing all this couple-stuff,” Wick continued. “And they’re gross.”

“Young love,” Bellamy mused, smirking.

“They’re old,” Clarke replied.

“Old love,” he amended in the same tone.

“They’re also making us share a room,” Wick added with a scowl, directed at his father. Bellamy laughed.

“I know,” he grinned. “The Princess here has done nothing but complain about that since she arrived.” Clarke shrugged helplessly.

“It’s not my fault he farts when he sleeps,” she retorted, making Bellamy laugh again. Her friend glanced at the other blonde.

“You’re not going to deny it?” He asked. Wick just shrugged under Bellamy’s arm.

“It’s a talent that I’ve taken years to perfect,” he said pompously. “I’m not letting the girl who only knows three decimal places of pi ruin that for me.” Bellamy laughed, and his arms dropped from their shoulders.

“You guys are siblings already,” he mused, more to himself than to them.

 

**Day Four**

Octavia jumped into the lake, and Wick helped to catch her, grinning widely at the younger girl. Clarke found it impressive how easily they had taken to each other, and she noticed that Bellamy was even more accepting of it.

She swam over to the older Blake, and the two watched as Wick reminded Octavia of her swimming lessons, the girl now seven and not using the arm bands.

“Aren’t you annoyed?” She asked him curiously.

“About what?”

“Wick is doing brotherly things with Tae,” she pointed out. “Usually, you’re against that.” Bellamy looked at her and rolled his eyes.

“I figure I should let others help, right?” Clarke’s face broke into a grin that was quickly stopped when Bellamy splashed her and laughed, swimming away.

 

**Day Five**

Octavia and Clarke sat on a bench with ice creams. They both held two, and while the other ones were for the boys, currently in a shop, both girls took sneaky licks from them anyway.

“Do you think that was too much?” Octavia asked, and Clarke glanced down at Wick’s ice cream, in her hand. There was a dent taken out of the side, that her step-brother-to-be was sure to notice. Clarke shrugged with a smile though.

“Nah, he won’t realise,” she lied. Octavia grinned and went back to her own ice cream, and the two sat there in wait. Octavia frowned after another minute.

“Oh, _Clarke_ ,” she complained.

“Yeah?”

“My shoe’s untied!” She cried out, flinging her right foot around. Clarke watched the pink laces flail and she frowned.

“I can’t really do anything about that now,” Clarke told the younger girl. “My hands are full.”

“But my shoe lace!” Octavia cried again, and Clarke watched as her face became more angry and distressed by the moment. She looked around for Bellamy or Wick, but neither were in sight as Octavia grew more rattled by her untied shoelace. Octavia had been growing more headstrong over the past year, it seemed, and Clarke hadn’t had the opportunity to witness it, yet.

“Hey, do you need help?” A voice asked. Clarke’s head snapped up and she saw a gentle smile and brown floppy hair. The boy was cute, about her age, with a back pack and a skateboard, propped up under one foot.

“Oh, uh, I’m sure it’s fine,” Clarke excused, looking from the boy to the younger Blake, the latter of which had a clenched jaw and a red face.

“I can tie her shoelace for you, if you want,” the boy grinned. Octavia was making some form of growling noise in her throat, so Clarke nodded quickly, and the boy knelt down. He made quick work of the shoelace, and Octavia went straight back to grinning and taking licks of Wick’s ice cream, straight after.

“All done,” the boy said.

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled. “Tae, what do you say?” Octavia looked from Clarke to the stranger.

“Nothing!” She replied with a nod. Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Tae,” she prompted, only making Octavia shake her head.

“Mama said that I thank people who do nice things for me,” Octavia explained with a smile. “But I don’t talk to strangers.” Clarke’s face broke out into a smile, and she glanced up at the boy, who was laughing.

“Nice kid,” he commented. “I’m Finn.”

“Clarke,” she smiled.

“I haven’t seen you around, do you live here?” Clarke shook her head.

“Nah, my family comes here on holiday every summer,” she replied. Finn nodded thoughtfully.

“So, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then?” She paused before nodding.

“I guess so.” Finn nodded once more before putting his skateboard back on the ground, nodding to Octavia and pushing off, skating away. A moment or two later, Bellamy and Wick reappeared and the girls handed them back their ice creams. Bellamy didn’t notice that Clarke had eaten some of his, but Wick stared at his, thoughtfully, for a moment as Octavia giggled.

“Now, I’m _sure_ there was more of this when I left.”

 

**Day Seven**

Clarke sat on the tire swing as Bellamy pushed her. Since meeting Finn, she had thought about him a lot. He was very different to Bellamy, but cute all the same. While Bellamy was all hard edges and long arms, Finn seemed softer and more gentle. His smile was more crooked than Bellamy’s, and his eyes weren’t as dark. Plus, he looked at Clarke in a different way to Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at his friend like she was a sister; someone to protect and care for. Finn looked at her with interest; as if she was something new and special, to learn about. And Clarke knew that Bellamy saw her as a sister, and nothing more – but she didn’t know how Finn felt about her. But she thought about what he could feel about her; he could like her. He could develop a crush on her, and be that summer boyfriend Wells was always joking about (although, he usually referred to Bellamy in those moments).

“Have you ever been kissed?” Clarke asked suddenly, turning to look at Bellamy. The tire swing turned with her and she spun around for a few moments before Bellamy caught the rope and stilled her.

“Yeah, haven’t you?” His brow furrowed a little and Clarke pulled her legs out of the swing. Bellamy jumped up as soon as she was out of the way; landing his feet on the inner circle and swinging wildly.

“No,” she replied. “I had a boyfriend when I was seven, but we didn’t work out very well.” Bellamy laughed.

“Seven year olds don’t really understand love, anyway,” he commented. “But no one’s ever kissed you?” She shook her head, but he wasn’t really looking at her.

“What’s it like?” Clarke sat on the grass, still under the shade of the tree and ran her fingers through the blades. Bellamy shrugged on the swing.

“It’s… nice,” he replied eventually, making Clarke laugh.

“Nice? Just nice?” Bellamy looked down at her and smiled.

“Okay, its… it’s strange at first, and sometimes it doesn’t always feel right, and sometimes you bump noses or your teeth hit each other and it’s uncomfortable-“

“You’re really selling it, here,” Clarke deadpanned. Bellamy jumped from the swing and shrugged when he straightened.

“Sometimes it feels right, though,” he amended, landing heavily on her right. “Sometimes people just… Come together, or something. I don’t know, it’s like puzzle pieces – some don’t always fit, but there are those out there that can fit perfectly.” Clarke nodded slowly and studied him, not meeting her eye but watching the tire.

“Have you ever had the perfect puzzle-piece kiss?” She asked with half of a smile. Bellamy ducked his head for a moment and exhaled a laugh.

“No, it’s all been wrong. Doesn’t mean I don’t keep going, though.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s kissing, it’s a girl – I’m not going to stop when someone’s finally throwing me a bone.” The two laughed together on the grass, and watched the tire swing come to a slow stop. “Why do you ask, anyway?” Clarke shrugged.

“There was a guy in town the other day – he was cute, so it got me thinking,” she mumbled. Bellamy nudged her shoulder a couple of times, and when she looked over, he was grinning.

“My little Princess, all grown up,” he joked, and Clarke shoved him in return. Bellamy laughed and shoved her back and the two stared at each other, grinning for a moment.

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” Clarke commented. Bellamy shook his head, still smiling.

“Okay, I’m sorry, what’s his name?” She glanced over to find him looking semi-sincere.

“Finn,” she replied quietly. He nodded.

“And on a scale of one to ten, how cute?” He was wiggling his eyebrows now so Clarke shoved him again, as he fell apart in laughter. “Okay! I give!” He called out after she lightly punched his arm. He rubbed the spot mockingly for a moment before rolling his eyes. “You’re worried about kissing guys?”

“What if I’m bad at kissing people?” She sighed. Clarke specifically used the word ‘people’, because while she got over her crush on Harper, she had weirdly been finding Monroe kind of cute, and she had no idea what to do about it.

“I think it’s impossible to be bad at kissing,” Bellamy told her. She gave him a pointed look. “Okay, so it’s difficult – I could teach you, if you want?” She raised her eyebrows suddenly, and he shrugged, ducking his head. “I don’t want you to be worried about this – but if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No! Um, no, I could use all the help I can get,” Clarke replied, looking away and rubbing at the back of her neck. She pulled all of her hair around one shoulder before pushing it all over her back, nervously fiddling with the tips. Her hair was still as short as Bellamy had cut it to the year before, but now more even – she couldn’t bring herself to grow it out again.

Bellamy nodded and turned, so he was facing her, and Clarke did the same. He nodded a little, as if he were reassuring himself, before looking her in the eye and then darting away again.

“Okay, so how about I kiss you, and tell you if you’re doing anything wrong?” He suggested with a shrug. Clarke nodded, probably a little too quickly, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Get on your knees,” he instructed, and she did so, in the same way he did. “Okay.” Bellamy raised one hand to her cheek for a moment, brushing some loose strands of hair from her face. She felt his eyes boring into her own, and she met them, if only for a moment, before flickering her gaze away.

Bellamy kept his hand gentle on the side of her face, and he leaned in first, hesitantly, so she could tell him to stop at any time. But Clarke didn’t want him to – she really, really didn’t.

“Um,” she started, looking from his eyes to his lips. “What do I do with my hands?” He breathed out a smile. His free hand directed her hands to his shoulders at first, before sliding them down to rest on his arms.

“Or whatever feels comfortable,” he suggested awkwardly. Then he took a moment before leaning in again. Bellamy stopped right before their lips met; as their breaths mingled between them and her heart rate sped up. They met each other’s eyes for a moment before he said lowly, “close your eyes”. Clarke did as she was told and it was only a second later that his lips met hers.

It was gentle at first, his hands cupping her face, and sliding down to her neck. Their lips pressed against each other slowly, testing the new grounds. She figured he would be more dominant, and was proven correct in the way that his pressure became heavier, and she leant back a little from the weight of it. It was more than nice, kissing Bellamy. She wasn’t sure what he meant by people fitting together correctly, but she liked to think that this was it; her lips slotting into his in the right way, and his movements mirrored by her own. Her hands did drop from his arms; finding it more comfortable to be resting by his hips and on his legs, as she sat further up and tried to get a better purchase.

He responded with more pressure and felt his tongue lick gently at her lower lip. His thumbs gently moved against her skin as he did so. Only a moment later did he pull slowly away, Clarke following him for a beat before moving back, herself. It was slow going, moving away and her eyes fluttering open, to find his already staring at her. For a moment or two, it was just their breathing that could be heard, before Clarke looked down and nodded, removing her hands from him as his slipped away from her skin.

“Uh, yeah,” Bellamy nodded.

“It was good?” She asked carefully. She glanced at him to find his head nodding, as he shuffled off of his knees. He didn’t look at her, but he nodded, more to himself than to her.

“Yeah, um, yeah. It couldn’t hurt for you to put in more pressure, but yeah – um, it was good.” Clarke couldn’t help but smile, as she turned her gaze to the lake, because she had just kissed Bellamy Blake, and he had liked it.

 

**Day Ten**

It was raining. Clarke looked to Octavia, out of the three others that were sprawled around her living room.

“Tae,” she started slowly. “Have you ever played Monopoly before?”

“NO,” Bellamy and Wick firmly stated in unison.

 

**Day Fourteen**

She wandered through the woods; the trail usually reserved for joggers and dog walkers, and sometimes she and Bellamy on their bikes. Clarke listened to her footsteps carefully, noticing she was heavier on her right than her left. Her friends had decided to watch a film, because the sky looked so overcast, and the adults had taken to the other house for afternoon coffee.

Clarke had wanted to go outside though, and she had promised her mother that she wasn’t going too far, and knew the way back. And if Clarke walked enough down the slope to the right, she would hit the shore of the lake, and would be able to see her house. She wasn’t too far, not really.

There was a rustling in the tree above her; louder than the others. Most of the noises were from the breeze hitting the leaves, but this one sounded purposeful. Clarke glanced up to find a boy, hanging from the branch. She stepped back, turning to look properly, and catching a grin before he started swinging and climbed back into the tree.

“Hey, Clarke!” The boy called out. She immediately knew who the boy was, and she squinted her eyes as he clambered through the tree.

“Finn?” She asked carefully. A body fell from a branch and she yelped, jumping back. But Finn landed on his feet, legs bent at the knees, and stood up, still smiling.

“The one and only,” he agreed. Finn picked up his back pack from the base of a tree and jogged to catch up with her, so he could walk along her side. She only felt a tiny flutter in her stomach. “What are you doing in the woods?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted, purposely trying to keep the smirk from her face.

“But you didn’t,” he pointed out. “So, what are you doing in the woods?”

“Going for a walk,” she replied, glancing over. He wasn’t looking at her, but the trees, and she wondered what he was really like. “What about you?”

“Same,” he replied absently. “Hey, do you want to see something really cool?” Clarke nodded slowly and he grinned, picking up his pace on the trail. “Come on then!” They ended up climbing a tree, and Clarke looked out from the top of the branches, to see the lake spread across the landscape. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

Finn climbed up next to her and grinned.

“Cool, right?” She nodded, not taking her eyes from the hills and the water. “You never get to see this sort of thing if you’re on holiday. You have to live here to know the tricks.”

“I come here on holiday a lot, though,” she replied with a shrug. “I’m still surprised.”

“You do? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Every summer,” was all she said. One of her hands was gripping tightly to the branch, and she barely noticed that Finn was holding onto nothing at all; he was just balancing easily.

“So I’ll get to see you next year then?” He asked, and Clarke turned her head to look at him, smiling hopefully. He had hazel eyes and a wide smile, crooked in a way she hadn’t seen before. She noticed a couple of faded scars on his chin and forehead, and she wondered how he got them.

“You’ve barely seen me this year,” she told him. Finn caught her hand in his, and her breath caught a little.

“I can change that,” was all he said. And Clarke felt a little guilty, because Finn was here with her, and part of her mind was wondering when she would be able to bring Bellamy here, because he would love that view.

 

**Day Fifteen**

Clarke swam with Bellamy and Wick in the morning, and went into town with Finn in the afternoon. He bought her an ice cream and they ate fish and chips out of small polystyrene boxes and she told him she was staying by the lake.

 

**Day Sixteen**

She went out with Jason and Wick and her mother in the afternoon, after spending the morning with Finn in the woods. She and Bellamy went swimming in the evening and she told him all about it.

 

**Day Seventeen**

Finn told her about his dream to be in the Peace Corps. She told him that she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life, but her mother was a doctor and it seemed like a good job, albeit a bit stressful.

 

**Day Eighteen**

She and Finn took a small paddle boat out on the lake, and she pointed out her house to him. Finn asked about the boys in the garden, because she hadn’t told him that she had brothers, and Clarke laughed.

“Wick is the son of my mum’s boyfriend,” she said with a smile. “And Bellamy is our next door neighbour during the holidays.”

“He rents out the house next door?”

“The family owns it,” she corrected.

 

**Day Nineteen**

Abby insisted she meet the boy who Clarke had been spending so much time with, so she promised she could when he picked her up. Because her mother had said this at breakfast, Wick had overheard and texted Bellamy, meaning her friend and Octavia arrived ten minutes later.

When Finn rang the doorbell, Clarke answered it with an apologetic smile.

“People want to meet you,” she hissed, rolling her eyes. Finn laughed.

“Everyone wants to meet me,” he joked in return. Clarke called out for Abby, and her mother came along with Jason and introduced themselves to Finn, and shook his hand in turn.

“Make sure you have her home by four,” Abby said at the end of the miniature interrogation (her glare was something that wars could be ended with).

“Absolutely,” Finn replied. Before Clarke had a chance to slip out the door and shut it behind her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders and she groaned.

“Aw, Clarke, you never groan about being around me,” Wick said with mock offence.

“I always groan about it,” she retorted. “We share a room.” Her step-brother-to-be just laughed before eyeing Finn.

“And you, what is your business with my sister, here?” He asked (Clarke had noticed recently that he had adapted to calling her his sister, while she was still on ‘my mother’s boyfriend’s son’).

“Well, I was hoping to take her to mini golf,” Finn said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Mini golf?” Bellamy asked incredulously, leaning on the door frame. “What, regular sized golf isn’t good enough for our Princess?” Bellamy was actually speaking in a non-mocking way, making him come off a little intimidating. Finn only wavered for a moment before plastering on an easy smile.

“If I could afford it, I’d take her to the world’s biggest golf,” he replied. Bellamy eyed him, shooting daggers in his direction before Octavia pushed past the boys’ legs. She stared at him openly for a moment before shaking her head.

“Nope,” she announced. “I don’t like him.” Wick laughed loudly and Bellamy grinned, chuckling. Clarke raised her eyebrows.

“Why’s that, O?” Bellamy asked his little sister.

“He has stupid hair,” she stated, before turning away, and pushing past the boys and back into the house. Clarke just watched, wide-eyed.

“Well, you heard it here first, folks,” Wick grinned, before following Octavia back into the living room. Clarke met Bellamy’s eyes for a moment before he shrugged, pulling her in for a quick, one-armed hug.

“Don’t let him give you drugs,” was all he said before turning away. Clarke watched him for a moment, before shutting the door and looking back to a bewildered Finn.

“I kind of like your hair,” she grinned at him, and his easiness returned immediately.

 

**Day Twenty**

“I don’t like him,” Bellamy told her as they floated on their backs in the lake. Clarke scoffed but didn’t say a thing. “Didn’t you say he jumped out of a tree?”

“Yeah, so?”

“And he tried to scale the side of a building? And jumped in the lake while you were out on the boat?”

“What’s your point, Bellamy?” She asked, a little irritated.

“He sounds like the type of person who would crash your dad's boat, just for kicks,” was all he said.

 

**Day Twenty Four**

“Are you gonna come out swimming?” Bellamy asked, spooning cereal into his mouth. Clarke shook her head.

“Nope, I’m going into town with Finn,” she told him, taking out a spoon from the drawer and dipping it into his cereal bowl before it landed in her mouth. He protested weakly, turning the bowl away from her, but he didn’t stop her when she did it again.

“Why are you here then?” He asked. “Did you come over just to steal my food?” Clarke nodded.

“Basically.”

“Well, are you swimming this evening?” She shook her head, and dumped the spoon in the sink.

“Finn got us tickets to a play,” she said with a smile. She turned to leave the kitchen, but Bellamy reached out and caught her hand. Clarke turned back to him, the butterflies in her stomach still flapping like they always would when they touched, and her mind briefly flickered back to the day he taught her to kiss.

“You always come swimming in the evening,” he told her, and Clarke avoided looking at his eyes because they seemed sadder than usual. Sadder than when she hurt herself, or he was talking about not having a father, and she wondered what was bothering him.

“Well, this time I’m not,” she replied. “I’ll go swimming tomorrow.” Clarke turned, trying to tug her hand away from his, but his grip just tightened.

“ _Clarke_ ,” he said, and she flicked her head back to look at him. He placed his bowl down on the counter and refused to look anywhere but her eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what, Bell?” She asked, irritation lacing her tone. “I’m just going to a play.”

“No, you’re ditching your friends for a guy you’d only ever see in the summer.”

“I only ever see _you_ in the summer,” she replied, raising her voice a little in annoyance. Bellamy dropped her hand, then.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You do.”

 

**Day Twenty Five**

Clarke went swimming the evening, just like she promised, but Bellamy swam away whenever she got close, and she watched him sadly as she thought about his words.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

She got up late, and wandered downstairs quietly, noticing Wick was already up.

“He’s a tool,” she heard someone say, as she reached the bottom steps. She couldn’t see anyone in the living room, and guessed the voices were coming from the kitchen, so she tiptoed behind the wall that separated living room from hall way and listened.

“I know,” the other voice said. It was deeper, so she guessed it was Bellamy.

“You avoiding her isn’t going to change anything, though,” the first voice – Wick – replied.

“It might.” Someone sighed.

“It won’t. Clarke’s stubborn and she likes this kid, Bell. Just be happy for her, at least it isn’t one of the jerks back home.”

“Oh yeah, because the jerk over here is any better,” Bellamy said dryly.

“He might be! He takes her out on dates and she’s always smiling when she comes back in – and she’s very rarely that happy when she’s talking about people.” There was a pause.

“Who else is she happy about when she talks?” She imagined Wick shrugging.

“I dunno – _you_? Octavia? Recently, her friend Monroe, but come on, man – that’s not the point. She’s probably not going to see this bloke again after the summer, anyway. Let her have her summer crush, and she can move on.”

“Wick, I’m only ever here for the summer, too. If she stops liking one person she can only see once a year, what happens to me and O?” There’s a sigh.

“You’re literally her best friend,” Wick said. “Whether you know it or not. You’re not going to lose her. Sure, the guy is a grade A asshole, but it doesn’t mean you can’t let her have her fun.”

 

**Day Twenty Seven**

Finn kissed her. He surged forward, when they were on the trail in the woods, and his lips met with hers. It was a heavy pressure, and his hands held her waist, pulling her in. Her hands moved up to his shoulders, like Bellamy told her to, and her eyes shut.  She tried to be gentle – a heavier pressure than she had done with Bellamy – but Finn was more rough with his kiss. Her hands moved to his neck, pulling him in although not knowing what she was doing.

“ _Fuck_ , Clarke,” Finn breathed, before meeting her lips with his own again. He bit down on her lower lip so she would open her mouth, and it felt so different to Bellamy’s tongue, gently running along it. She opened her mouth anyway, and his tongue entered, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

All in all, the kiss was… _nice_.

And that’s all she could say – which made her wonder about Bellamy and the puzzle-piece kissing, and the fact that he could only say he’d had ‘nice’ kisses, when he said none of them were right.

 

**Day Thirty**

Since their first kiss, Finn and Clarke had been more affectionate with each other. He kissed her more often, and they held hands, and once he touched her ass and she wondered if this was what a relationship was like.

 

**Day Thirty One**

“You’re going to another play?” Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a small town, how can there be more than one play?” Clarke laughed, moving her feet onto his lap from where she sat on the sofa.

“Apparently there’s two,” she told him. “ _But_ ,” and she smiled widely now. “I made sure he got tickets to the afternoon showing, so I could still go swimming in the evening.” Bellamy raised both eyebrows as he smiled.

“Making an effort, Princess?” Clarke nodded. “Good, because your knight has missed you over the past few weeks.”

 

**Day Thirty Two**

Clarke wished she’d never gone to that stupid play.

Finn had arrived a little early, before she’d gotten dressed, and he’d raised his eyebrows at her ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt.

“Where’d you get that?” He asked, slightly amused and slightly disgusted, all in one.

“Bellamy gave it to me,” she replied indignantly, before turning and leaving the door open, for him to enter. “I’m going to get changed.” Clarke only spared him a glance, but he looked relieved at her statement.

When she returned down stairs, Wick was glaring at him from the entrance to the living room.

“What happened?” She asked, turning to Finn’s annoyed expression.

“Your boyfriend’s a tool,” Wick said, turning and walking away. She looked to Finn, and he shrugged.

“He thought taking a girl to a play was old-fashioned,” he said, and Clarke knew that it wasn’t the truth. But she took his arm and left with him anyway.

At the play, she was enraptured by the acting. It was beautiful, the way they spoke and moved, and Clarke wondered if she would be good at acting. Although, her grades in her drama class weren’t very high, so she doubted it.

In the intermission, Finn went to get them some drinks, so she sat, waiting. She waited for ten minutes, tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair and looking around at all the strangers, leaning into their friend’s arms and laughing with one another. The lights dimmed and Finn wasn’t back yet, so she made the decision to go and look for him.

Clarke tiptoed out of the hall, and wandered through the corridors, looking for the counter they’d passed on the way in, with the drinks behind the bar. She found Finn before she found that, though, and when she did, she wasn’t happy at all.

Yes, he had her drink – at least that was a plus. He held her bottle of water in one hand and his in the other, but his lips were firmly on another girl’s and she stood, dumbly, watching. The other girl was prettier than Clarke, and she registered that quickly. She had long, dark hair, and darker skin, and seemed taller than her and thinner than her, too.

Then, Clarke was done with staring and letting her anger bubble up, and she stormed over, effectively breaking up the kiss. Finn stared at her with wide eyes and the girl looked annoyed for the interruption.

“This is what you call getting us drinks?” Clarke almost yelled, causing a couple curious glances to be sent in their direction. Finn shrunk back from the noise, but held up their drinks weakly. “You know, if you had told me you had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have been dating you!”

“ _What_?” The other girl interjected. But Clarke didn’t look at her.

“I wasted the past two weeks of my summer, and spent it only with you, so you could have another girlfriend?”

“ _Another_?” The other girl asked.

“Another,” Clarke confirmed, and then she glared as ruthlessly as she could at Finn. “I wish that I had never met you. She turned away, taking a few steps before looking back. “This is mine,” she told him, yanking a bottle of water from his hand. “And you’re terrible at kissing.” Then she spun and stormed out of the building.

Clarke walked around town for a little while, letting her anger simmer, before heading back home. She felt like crying. Every cell in her thirteen year old body was doing it, so why couldn’t she? When she got back, she went straight to her room, ignoring her mother in the living room, and Jason on the stairs. She flung herself into her bed, and sighed heavily.

“Play finish early?” She heard from the other bed. Clarke turned away from Wick, curling her legs up to her chest. There was silence and then the sound of bed springs. “Clarke? Are you okay?”

“No,” she said into her pillow.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not with you,” she replied.

“Shall I get Bellamy?”

“Please.”

When Bellamy arrived, Wick left. Bellamy sat on her bed and rubbed gentle circles across her shoulder and waited for her to talk first.

“He has another girlfriend,” she said eventually. But he didn’t talk then, either. Clarke could feel the tears, tracking down her face, and she didn’t make a move to wipe them away. It sucked, to be short. All of her was upset, and there was a feeling in her stomach, different to the butterflies that usually fluttered about. It felt solid, sinking, like a ship in the middle of her; the anchor dragging her down. “She was really pretty.”

“Other women always are,” he commented mildly.

“I bet they had been dating longer,” Clarke sighed. “They kissed differently to how me and Finn did.”

“You kissed him?” His voice had an edge and Clarke nodded.

“It wasn’t right though,” she told him. “It was nice-“

“Nice? Just nice?” He asked, mimicking her words from earlier in the summer. Clarke couldn’t be bothered to even crack a smile, though.

“It wasn’t like the puzzle pieces, though,” she said sadly. “We didn’t fit together properly. They looked like they did.” He ran his hand down her arm and locked his fingers with hers.

“Then don’t worry about it,” he told her. Clarke looked up.

“What?”

“You didn’t fit properly – you weren’t meant to be. I know it hurts now, but if your mouths don’t fit then you weren’t going to, anyway.” She looked at him, incredulously, for a moment.

“What?” He sighed.

“I have no idea. I was trying to be supportive.” She was sitting up now, so he pulled her in for a hug, and Clarke found her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m terrible at this – but do you remember what I told you when Wells and Harper started dating?”

“You told me I was eleven,” Clarke replied after a pause.

“Well, your thirteen, Princess,” he said. “And I’m sixteen, so I know that people who are together at thirteen almost never make it to sixteen, anyway.” She was silent for a moment before nodding.

“Plus, I would have only seen him for the summers, anyway.” Bellamy stiffened a little, and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, you would.”

“Does this mean I can’t do the whole ice cream, sappy romance film thing, to get over him?” She asked, pulling away to look at him carefully. Bellamy broke into a smile.

“I think you can do that whether your boyfriend has kissed another girl or not. Sounds like a half decent day, anyway.” Clarke laughed into his shoulder, and hoped the other girl Finn had been kissing had someone like Bellamy to help her through it, too.

 

**Day Thirty Three**

Bellamy arrived at her house at nine in the morning, very literally dragging her out of bed, by pulling on her foot while Wick laughed from across the room. They settled into the sofa, and he pulled out a carrier bag, handing over the ice cream and spoons as well as the sappy romance films that he’d bought early that morning.

 

**Day Thirty Five**

“Was he a good kisser?” Octavia asked with a grin, splashing Wick in the lake. Clarke shook her head, floating on her back.

“How would you possibly know?” Wick asked incredulously. Clarke pulled her legs down and tread water as she stared at her soon-to-be-brother.

“I’ve been kissed before,” she told him.

“Liar,” he replied, rolling his eyes, and splashing Octavia. “You’ve never kissed anyone! I would know about it.”

“I don’t tell you everything,” she retorted, only sparing a glance for Bellamy, watching with an amused smile.

“You would tell me if you’d been kissed.”

“No I wouldn’t.” Wick rolled his eyes again before Octavia splashed him.

“Hey!” He called out to the younger girl. “I wasn’t prepared!” Octavia giggled as he turned back to the blonde.

“Okay, so you know he was a bad kisser then – meaning your reference was actually good?” Clarke shrugged dumbly.

“I guess,” she replied, purposely not looking at Bellamy. Wick laughed.

“Right, sure, _now_ I believe you,” he told her sarcastically, before turning back to Octavia again. Clarke didn’t look at Bellamy and turned away, swimming in the other direction. Later, when they were walking back up to the house, Bellamy bumped his hip to hers (or to her stomach, seeing as the height difference was quite drastic).

“Sleep tight, reference,” he told her lowly, before jogging to catch up with Octavia, ahead of them and walking towards their house.

 

**Day Thirty Seven**

They were all out in town; Aurora walking alongside Octavia, and Jason talking to Wick. Bellamy was having a conversation with Abby when a girl caught Clarke’s eye. She faltered a little in her steps before continuing, luckily at the back of the group, so it went unnoticed. The girl had the same dark hair, and looked very similar to the brief glance she had caught of the girl who was kissing Finn. Now Clarke could see her properly, she noticed the girl to be Latina, with her hair back in a ponytail and her hands in her jacket pockets as she walked along the road.

It was only a moment before she spotted Clarke, too.

Their eyes met and the girl fumbled in her walk for a moment, before heading over in the blonde’s direction. Clarke slowed so she could catch up, and the stranger walked alongside her for a moment or two before speaking.

“Were you in love with him?” She asked first. Clarke scoffed.

“I barely knew him.” The girl nodded, and looked down at her from her height, and Clarke looked up to meet her dark eyes.

“Raven Reyes,” the girl said, tilting her head slightly as a gesture towards herself.

“Clarke Griffin. How long have you been with him?”

“Long enough,” Raven replied. “We were best friends first, then I moved to the next town over, and we started dating. Absence making the heart grow fonder, and all that.” Clarke nodded, completely understanding – because she was sure she had said the same thing about Bellamy. “Do you live here?” Clarke shook her head.

“Come here each summer on holiday,” she replied. Raven nodded, understandingly.

“Ah, lake house,” she said knowingly.

“What?”

“Anyone who comes here often is rich enough to own a lake house,” Raven responded, looking directly ahead, and Clarke could hear the bitter tone in her voice.

“Ah, well, yeah,” Clarke mumbled in response. Raven nodded and they followed Clarke’s family along the road for a little while until the other girl sighed.

“I’ve got places to be,” she said. “But, maybe I’ll see you next year? I live in the next town over, but I have to be in this one practically every day, anyway.” Clarke nodded, putting on a smile.

“Sure.”

“Bye, Griffin,” the girl said with a nod.

“Bye, Reyes.”

 

**Day Forty One**

Bellamy hugged Wick before Clarke, standing on the porch of the Blake’s house. It was raining and Bellamy wore Clarke’s dad’s jacket, pushing the sleeves up to the elbows and showing off his naturally tan skin. Wick jogged down the steps first, to pick up Octavia and spin her in a hug as she danced in the rain, and Clarke pulled away from Bellamy’s hug first, smiling sadly.

“I’ll call you,” he promised. “Every Saturday.”

“Every Saturday.”

“And you’ve got to tell me if you date any more tool bags,” he told her, the ghost of a smile on his face. She nodded, exhaling a smile.

“I’m sure Wick will warn you first, but yes, definitely.”

“I’ll intimidate them from one hundred miles away,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said at the beginning, I've hit a wall over the seventh chapter. There are so many characters you could add in, so if you've got anything you want to see, or think might happen from any of these events, TELL ME, please. I really need the help at this point, and would appreciate it so much.
> 
> Thank you!


	6. Summer Six

**Day One**

Clarke and Wick dumped their bags in their room, before flopping onto their beds.

“Is Bellamy getting here tomorrow?” Wick asked. Clarke nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What do we do until then?”

“Find the Monopoly board?” She suggested.

“No,” Wick immediately replied. Clarke sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“You want to go swimming?”

Clarke and Wick ran along the dock together, before jumping into the lake. They weren’t brother and sister, nor were their parents married yet, but they had formed some sort of truce, after the summer before. They acted like siblings, and tried to make peace with their parents being in love. Clarke floated on the water and stared up at the sky, pondering their parents.

“Is Mum going to take Jason’s last name?” She asked. Wick swam over and bumped her arm, making her flail about for a moment before regaining her balance.

“Doubt it,” he replied. “Wick isn’t a name that goes with everything.” She giggled, looking over to him, where he ran his fingers across the surface of the lake. “Do you think they’d have more kids?” Clarke scoffed.

“Probably not. Mum doesn’t even have a womb,” she told him. “They could probably adopt, but they have two kids, and they’re old.”

“They don’t need more,” he agreed. The two swam around for a bit longer and Wick taught Clarke to do flips underwater, like he had been trying to do in the pool at home. She wasn’t very good, but Wick did seven in a row before coming up for breath.

“Are you and Casey still together?” She asked as he climbed up the ladder and onto the dock.

“Nah,” he replied, walking in the direction of land. “What about you and Monroe?”

“We were never really to start with,” she shrugged.

“Made out, though?” Wick questioned.

“Of course.”

“Good girl.” Wick grinned at her from the far end of the dock, before running down and flipping into the water. Clarke turned away to avoid the splash hitting her eyes and laughed.

“That was your best yet,” she told him when he resurfaced. Wick grinned.

“Does Bellamy know about Monroe?” Clarke hesitated before shaking her head. “Why not? I thought you told him everything.” She shrugged, focusing intently on the water in front of her.

“I don’t know what I would say.”

“How about _, I like girls and guys, what’s for dinner_?” He suggested, floating on his back. Clarke rolled her eyes, pushing off on her back and swimming through the water.

“What if he’s not cool with it?” She heard Wick sigh, and stopped swimming to look over to him. Her brother’s expression was a mixture of concern and disappointment.

“Bellamy loves you, Clarke,” he told her. “He’s going to be cool with it.” Clarke swallowed, and looked back at the sky. She remembered telling her friends in school that she liked girls as well, and she could count on both hands how many people gave her looks for it, or avoided her for a while. Clarke didn’t want Bellamy to add onto that total.

 

**Day Two**

There was something different about Bellamy this year. He was seventeen; with dark curly hair and the same dark eyes she remembered so well. His skin was a little darker than she remembered, but his freckles still danced across his skin. He might have grown taller, but Clarke wouldn’t know, because he was always taller than her. His back was a little broader and his arms seemed larger than she remembered. Still, she couldn’t put her finger on it.

He pulled his suitcase out of the boot, before helping his sister with hers. Only then did he notice Wick and Clarke, on the porch of their house, leaning over the wooden railings. A smile appeared on his face, and he dropped his suitcase to jog over, enveloping both blondes in a hug at the same time.

“You know,” he started, and Clarke could hear how low his voice had actually gotten. “You could actually pass off as biological siblings.” Clarke rolled her eyes and Wick nodded.

“I know,” he replied with a smile. “It has been done.”

“Really?”

“He has his entire class believing that we have the same parents,” Clarke told him. “Mine didn’t believe it as easily, but his didn’t question it for even a moment.” Bellamy laughed, leaning back against the railing for a moment, glancing at the white paint, only slightly chipping on the wood.

“What about the last names?” He asked. “And the fact that you actually _do_ have different parents?”

“Ah,” Wick said with a grin. “That was easy. I told them that Abby kept the last name Griffin, and we were able to choose when we were kids, which one we wanted.” Bellamy raised a single eyebrow.

“And you still chose Wick?” Clarke’s brother punched Bellamy on the arm, jokingly and Clarke studied her friend for a moment, still not able to pinpoint what exactly had changed about him.

 

**Day Four**

Clarke was in town with Wick when she saw Raven Reyes.

At first, the Latina was just another girl in the crowd, but then Clarke recognised her features as she slowed her pace a little, trying to be sure. Wick kept walking before realising she had hung back, and he turned to look at her.

“Clarke?” He called back. “What’s the problem?” She shook her head, and Raven’s snapped around, searching through the faces for a moment before landing on Clarke’s. The blonde continued to walk, catching up with her brother, as Raven excused herself from the person she was talking to, and wandered over.

“Clarke Griffin,” she said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her bright red jacket.

“Raven Reyes,” Clarke responded, putting on a smile. She didn’t really know how real it was, but Raven’s seemed to be fairly amused.

“I almost forgot about you entirely,” Raven told her, shaking her head a little. Clarke watched her ponytail sway behind her.

“Really?”

“No,” Raven admitted. “My boyfriend cheated on me with you. I’m not going to forget about that.”

“Wait, this is the girl?” Wick interjected, looking between the two. She had told him around October what happened between her and Finn, and he had promised to pull his stupid hair clean off his head if he ever saw him again. Clarke decided not to tell him that Bellamy had already punched him in the face, when the two came across him during a bike ride.

“Yeah,” Clarke said shortly to her brother, before turning back to the girl. “How’ve you been?” The girl just laughed, loudly, bitterly, mockingly, while shaking her head.

“Don’t do this,” she told Clarke. “Don’t pretend you care.” Clarke raised her eyebrows. “No one is supposed to get to know the girl your boyfriend wanted more than you.”

“So?” The blonde replied. “No one’s supposed to cheat, either. But, _oh_ _look_ , that happened, too.” Clarke glared a little as she spoke, and she felt Wick tense up next to her.

“Fine,” Raven said simply. “I’ve been crap and Finn has been messaging me constantly for the past year. How about you?”

“He hasn’t said a word to me,” Clarke replied with a shrug. Raven nodded for a moment before her eyes landed on Wick.

“Who’s this?” She asked.

“Step-brother,” Clarke replied. “Kyle Wick, meet Raven Reyes.”

“It’s a pleasure,” her brother said with a half-smile, giving Raven a once over. She gave him a quick look before turning away.

“Charmed,” she deadpanned.

“Oh, I like her,” Wick smiled, draping an arm across Clarke’s shoulders. Clarke returned the smile to her brother and nodded.

“Yeah, I do, too.”

 

**Day Six**

Clarke watched from the water as Octavia ran down the dock like Wick had, and jumped into the water with a squeal. The eight year old girl no longer wore arm bands, and she immediately asked the other blonde to teach her how to do a somersault in the water.

 

**Day Seven**

Bellamy and Clarke sat on the grass, having a staring contest.

“Lose,” he told her.

“No,” she replied. She noticed his eyes had tiny specs of a lighter shade of brown in them.

“Just do it already.”

“No.” He sighed, mockingly, before his hand reached up and flicked her on the forehead, right along the fading scar from the boat crash. She blinked with a tiny yelp, her head jerking backwards.

“Yes!” He cried out, sticking up his arms in victory.

“That doesn’t count! You cheated!”

“No, I didn’t, Princess,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Did you see anything O?” Octavia, lying on the ground nearby, shook her head.

“Not a thing,” she agreed.

 

**Day Eight**

“Do you want to go out on the bikes?” She asked Bellamy, who was lounging about in his living room, texting.

“Nah,” he replied, not even looking up.

“Do you want to go swimming?”

“Nah.”

“The museum?”

“Nah.”

“Do you want to do anything?”

“I want to text Murphy,” he replied monotonously.

 

**Day Nine**

Clarke and Octavia rode their bikes along the trail in the woods. As she reached a familiar area, Clarke stuck her feet out onto the ground, slowing herself down. Octavia stopped a moment later.

“What is it?” Octavia called back, turning her head. Her long brown hair was caught up in a ponytail, and her fringe was still a full one, covering her forehead.

“You want to see something cool?” She asked the younger girl. Octavia only hesitated for a second before nodding. A minute or two later, they were standing at the base of a tree.

“Not even Bell’s seen this,” Clarke told her, giving her a leg up onto the branch. Octavia climbed where Clarke told her to, not hesitating in her footsteps, but each movement deft and sure. “Just a little further up,” Clarke called up to her.

“Okay.” Octavia reached a long, sturdy branch, and stood on it, shuffling along so she could hold on.

“Can you see it?” Clarke asked, joining her on the branch like Finn had done the year before.

“Wow,” the girl breathed, her eyes widening at the sight. “This is so cool.” Just like Clarke remembered, the lake spread out before them; the hills in the background, and the sides risen with trees. “Hey, there’s our houses!” Along the shoreline were the houses, and where Octavia was looking, a dot of a person – it could have been Wick – was standing out on the grass.

“How did you find this place?” Octavia asked, only sparing Clarke a single glance.

“Finn brought me here,” Clarke replied. Octavia just nodded and the two girls stood there silently.

 

**Day Eleven**

“Hey, Raven,” Clarke heard Wick say as they wandered through town. Her head snapped around to find Raven looking Wick up and down like she had the last time they saw each other. Her arms crossed over her chest before she replied.

“Wick,” she said. Then her eyes landed on Clarke; Octavia’s arms wrapped around her neck in a piggy back. “Hey, Clarke, you seem to have grown a human.” Octavia laughed louder than Clarke did, and the blonde made her way over, with Bellamy trailing not far behind.

“I’m Octavia,” the girl on Clarke’s back announced, grinning at Raven. “Clarke calls me Tae.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tae,” Raven smiled; the look of annoyance that Clarke thought to be permanent disappearing from her face.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Octavia replied seriously, bringing a smile out of both of the boys. Then Raven glanced at Bellamy, and Clarke watched her gaze linger in a way it didn’t with the others.

“And who’s this?” She asked slowly. Clarke wondered if her heart breaking was actually all that loud, or if it just felt that way to her. The look of disappointment, quickly covered, on Wick’s face seemed to say the same thing.

“Bellamy,” her friend replied, looking at Raven in the same way she stared at him.

“Raven Reyes,” she introduced, sticking out her hand. Bellamy shook it, and Clarke noticed that she hadn’t wanted a handshake from anyone else. But she couldn’t blame her, really – Bellamy was tall and beautiful, and she felt that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach like she did every time she focused on the older boy.

“You’re the one,” Bellamy started slowly. “Who was dating that assh- _jerk_ , Finn.” Clarke noticed the quick glance in his sister’s direction as he spoke. Raven nodded as her hand dropped.

“And you’re the friend of Clarke,” she replied, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Who punched him.”

“You did _what_?” Wick asked.

“Bellamy!” Octavia glared.

“O, you didn’t like him either,” the older Blake pointed out. She shrugged.

“He had stupid hair,” she mumbled, resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Yeah, he did,” Clarke agreed with a nod. Raven’s eyes were still planted on Bellamy when he said that they needed to get going if they were going to be back in time for lunch, and when she said goodbye, she barely even glanced at the others.

 

**Day Twelve**

“Are you going swimming?” Wick asked, forcing himself out of bed.

“No,” Clarke muttered.

“Is it because Raven’s going to be there?”

“No,” she lied. After they left the day before, Raven had put it upon herself to jog after them and hand Bellamy her phone number. He spent the rest of the day texting it, and Clarke had to watch as he ducked out of every conversation to have a separate one with the new girl. Wick sighed and Clarke felt the edge of her bed dip from where he sat on it.

“Clarke,” he said, and she sighed, making a dramatic amount of noise as she turned over in the bed, so they could see each other’s faces. “Are you jealous?”

“Aren’t you?” She shot back. “I saw how you looked at her.”

“So she’s going to be the future Mrs. Raven Wick,” he shrugged with a smile. “Doesn’t mean she can’t have her fun, now.” Clarke raised her eyebrows at him and he grinned. “But, what’s more important is _Clarke’s got a crush_ ,” he sang happily.

“I do _not_ ,” she insisted, pushing her face into her pillow.

“Yes you do,” he replied. “It’s clear as day-“

“Some days are cloudy and come with torrential rain,” she interrupted. Wick sighed dramatically.

“Clear as a day with only blue sky and not a cloud in sight,” he said. “You like Bellamy.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she told her brother. “Raven’s prettier and taller, and have you seen how long her hair is?” Wick only grinned.

“From what I remember, Bellamy preferred shorter hair, anyway.”

 

**Day Fourteen**

Clarke sat in her bed, thinking back to the day that she and Bellamy had ridden their bikes, and she wore that stupid Beauty and The Beast t-shirt that she had adored at the time. _How ironic,_ Bellamy had said _. Beauty and the Beast - the story of Clarke and Bellamy._

Since that day when she was nine, Clarke had thought over those words and tried to figure it out. She watched the film repeatedly, and wondered how she was the princess and he was the beast.

Belle turned him back into a human at the end of the film, and her love turned him from a monster into a man. And this confused her – because, to Clarke, Bellamy was the opposite of a monster. He was the most beautiful person she’d ever laid eyes on; broad shoulders and waves of freckles, a gentle personality, and she tried to figure out how she could turn him from what he was, so perfectly, into what he was meant to be.

And, then she wondered if he was a different person during the summer, when he was with her, to how he was for the rest of the year.

 

**Day Fifteen**

“What’s Bellamy like at home?” She asked Octavia as they laid on the grass, sun beaming on their faces. Bellamy and Wick splashed around in the lake, and Raven had cancelled. Clarke was feeling good and she hoped to get the conversation out of the way.

The younger Blake eyed her for a moment before shrugging.

“He’s the same, really,” she replied. “But he gets into fights, I think.”

“Really?”

“Not a lot. But it happens sometimes. Otherwise he’s the same, but he’s indoors more often.”

 

**Day Sixteen**

“When do you want to go to the museum?” She asked Bellamy as they swam in the lake.

“Um, a couple of days?” He guessed. “Wick, are you coming?” He brother shook his head, wrinkling up his nose.

“I went last year with you guys, it was super boring.” Bellamy shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

 

**Day Seventeen**

“We’re going to the museum tomorrow,” Bellamy told Raven, when she asked if he was free the next day. To be completely honest, she asked him in the drive way of his house, and Clarke wasn’t supposed to hear, but she stood around the corner of the wall and listened anyway.

“Who’s ‘we’?” She asked.

“Clarke, O and I,” he replied.

“Oh, well I think we should go see a film in the next few days,” she told him. There was silence for a moment and Clarke held her breath.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” he replied, but his voice was lower than she’d heard it in a while. “What film?”

“Does it matter? We’re not going to be watching it.”

“We aren’t?”

“No, we’re going to be doing something else.” There was silence and Clarke peeked around the corner, her heart plummeting through her stomach as she watched Raven and Bellamy kiss. Later, Clarke wondered if it was anything like the kiss Raven had shared with Finn, or the one Clarke had shared with Bellamy.  That moment, as she turned away from them, she figured out what was so different about Bellamy Blake this year: he had grown up.

 

**Day Eighteen**

Octavia was excited about coming to the museum for the first time. The three of them wandered around for longer than they ever had before, telling her every piece of information they could remember about every painting or artefact. She stared so widely and openly at them all, and clutched at her older brother’s hand as they walked.

“This is Bell’s favourite subject,” she announced as they wandered through a room of spears and swords, Octavia acting out their use every now and again.

“Oh yeah?” Clarke replied, even though she already knew.

“Yeah, he’s gonna do it in university, right, Bell?” Both girls looked to Bellamy as he nodded.

“Hopefully, O.”

“And you’re going to teach it?” He nodded.

“That’s the plan.”

“What are you gonna do, Clarke?” The blonde felt the girl’s eyes on her as she shrugged, looking overly interested in a katana sword.

“Maybe medicine,” she said. “Maybe art. I don’t know yet. What about you, Tae?”

“I’m going to be an astronaut!” Octavia cried out happily, pulling her brother along to the next case.

 

**Day Twenty**

“You’re going to watch a film?” Clarke asked, her expression far more open and hurt that she would have liked.

“Yes, Clarke, that’s what people do on dates – not lame ass plays, but movies.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” she told him, picking up his slice of toast that he’d left on the plate and taking a bite from it. He only sent her a glance as she chewed.

“What are you getting at then?”

“You’re going to see it in the evening,” she replied simply. Bellamy paused from where he was putting the butter away, and looked over to her, perched on the counter in his holiday home.

“That’s what this is about?” She nodded.

“Don’t do this,” she told him, leaning forward a little as she repeated the words he’d told her the year before.

“Clarke, this is different.”

“What’s different about it?” He shrugged.

“We’re older.”

“So? Does that make it any more valid to ditch your friends on a tradition?” Bellamy picked up his plate, and took the slice of toast from Clarke’s hand as he walked past.

“It means that I want to go out with Raven, so I’m going to, Clarke,” he replied, not even looking at her. “Or am I not allowed to do that, now?” Clarke sighed, rolling her eyes.

“You are – but you’re leaving us on our evening swims!”

“We go on them every night, Clarke,” he replied absently, with a shrug. “There’ll be plenty more.”

That night, she and Wick floated on their backs after Octavia had left the water. Clarke sighed audibly and Wick repeated it back.

“Was this what it was like when I went to that play with Finn?” She asked, drawing circles in the water with her fingertips.

“Yeah, but with more grumbling,” her brother replied.

 

**Day Twenty Two**

Raven and Clarke sat on the dock in silence, their feet in the water and the sun setting across the lake. Clarke didn’t look at the older girl – Raven was in the year above, the same as Wick, and she was just as smart as him. She wanted to be a mechanic, and she came into town every day because she’d landed a job, fixing cars. They sat without moving or speaking and Clarke wondered if Raven was going to become a fixture, now. She and Bellamy had kissed more than Clarke wanted to see, and even though it had only been a couple of days, she had managed to get herself invited on the bike rides and afternoon swims and the trips to the cinema. And the only thing Clarke had against the girl was that Finn had liked her more, and it seemed that Bellamy did, too.

“Alright,” Raven said into their silence. “Cut the crap – you like Bellamy, don’t you?” Clarke didn’t move, and she didn’t say a word, she just stared at the lake, and the light, reflected in the water. “Why didn’t you just say so?” Clarke sighed.

“We’re not friends, you wouldn’t have cared. And it’s not like Bellamy likes me back.” Raven shrugged.

“So? Clarke, girls have to stick together. It’s girls against the world, and it’s better for them all to be on the same side.” Clarke turned to look at Raven, whose gaze was drifting across the water, and the sky, landing on Clarke every now and again. “Besides, he talks about you a lot. It’s fairly clear to see that you have dibs.” The blonde laughed then, and Raven cracked a smile, too.

“That clear?” Clarke asked.

“Clear as day,” Raven replied. The younger of the two girls paused for a moment before speaking again.

“Some days are cloudy,” she told the other girl. “There’s rain and lightning-“

“Clear as a bright, sunny day without a cloud in sight,” Raven amended. The blonde smiled knowingly, and Raven only sent her a single curious glance. “He told me he taught you to kiss,” she said next. Clarke froze for a moment before nodding. “Does anyone else know that?” Clarke only shook her head. “What did he teach you?”

“He taught me that kissing doesn’t always feel right,” she said quietly. “That mouths don’t always fit together like they’re supposed to. But when they do, they’re like puzzle pieces.” Raven nodded. “And puzzle-piece kisses are the important ones.”

“Were you and Finn like puzzle pieces?” Raven asked next, her voice low and her eyes firmly staring at the horizon.

“No. It was all wrong. How about you?” She just nodded.

“I don’t have that with Bellamy, though,” she said next. Clarke smiled a little, leaning her head on the older girl’s shoulder – because she did. Clarke was almost certain that she and Bellamy shared a puzzle-piece kiss. But now, the tension had lifted, and now it was just the mood that was needed work, so Clarke grinned, sitting up. She pointed to a spot on the opposite side of the lake.

“Did you hear about the time when Wick and I crashed a boat?”

 

**Day Twenty Three**

Raven and Bellamy were no longer kissing, but they still sat close together on the sofa, and they laughed at each other’s jokes. When Clarke raised an amused eyebrow at the older girl, Raven just shrugged.

“We’re not made for each other, but I still like him,” was all she said, before watching as Wick taught Octavia how to walk on her hands.

 

**Day Twenty Four**

“Hey, Raven,” Clarke said, all five of them in her living room. “Do you want to play Monopoly?” Just as she opened her mouth to reply, the others all groaned.

“If you get the Monopoly board out, I will hurt you with it,” Wick threatened.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

Clarke sat on the hill, looking out over the town. Raven had just left to go home, and Clarke couldn’t help but like the girl. Really, she had liked her from the beginning, and it was just her jealousy that blocked them from being friends. But Raven was right – girls needed to stand by each other, and the Latina who rivalled Wick in _how many underwater somersaults can you do in a row_ was someone good to have by Clarke’s side.

She decided she would leave soon, but couldn’t bring herself to move. It was then a bit of a surprise when a body landed next to her, and her head snapped in that direction to find Bellamy staring at the landscape before them.

“You and Raven seem like good friends,” he commented mildly, not looking in her direction. Clarke shrugged and turned her head back to the view (no matter how great of a view Bellamy was, beside her).

“We are,” she replied. “I guess we just needed time.” He nodded, and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Are you okay?” He nodded.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t even know,” he sighed. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, and she watched as the curls bounced back into position. “Nothing? Everything?” He sighed and everything was quiet for a moment. Clarke couldn’t even hear the breeze anymore. “Are we okay?” He asked.

“I’d like to think so,” she replied slowly. Next to her, Bellamy nodded.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “And, we’re close enough to tell each other all those stupid things that we have to get out, right?” Clarke nodded, and her mind jumped back to her kissing Monroe behind the school.

“Yeah – that’s what friends do, Bell,” she smiled. Bellamy nodded to himself a couple of times, trying to think things through. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, and Clarke stared at the view, but watched him out of her peripheral, as he tried to find the right words. Eventually, his hurt was too much for her. “Do you want me to go first?” His head jumped up and he smiled at her, gratefully. “Okay.”

Clarke had had time to think about what she was going to say, and she decided that he probably wouldn’t ditch her over it. Bellamy seemed like a fairly liberal guy, and they were close friends – _best_ friends. Everything would be fine.

“I kissed Monroe,” she told him simply. His expression changed to one of confusion for a moment, before surprise and he nodded.

“You did?”

“Yeah, and Harper, too, actually,” she smiled to herself.

“Are you dating either of them?” Clarke shook her head.

“We just kissed – but that’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you. I didn’t really know what you’d say.”

“You’re into girls?” He replied, with a raised eyebrow.

“And guys,” she corrected with a shrug. “At least, I think so. I’m still a little confused.” Bellamy nodded, and turned away from her before looking back.

“It’s okay to be a little confused,” he told her. “But, you should definitely tell me when you’ve figured it out.” Clarke smiled a little, before nodding.

“You’re okay with it?” Bellamy smiled back.

“I don’t know why I wouldn’t be.” They smiled at each other for a moment before he looked away, and Clarke watched him gear up to tell her his news. “I haven’t told O, yet,” he said slowly. “And I don’t know how. Mum said she’ll tell her if I can’t, but um…” he trailed off. Clarke briefly considered Aurora, and how she hadn’t seen her much, that summer. She knew her mother and Jason were off doing ‘couple’ things, but that meant that Aurora was either on her own or with her kids, when they weren’t around.

“So, um,” he sighed, and Clarke rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they sat there for a moment, staring at the view. “Mum has cancer.” Clarke froze and she felt her heart beat slow down. She didn’t know what to think and the orange in the sky, as the sun was setting, turned a deep red in her vision. She swallowed and her jaw tensed, and Bellamy just held her tighter. Neither of them said anything for a little while, before Clarke sat up and wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s torso. She let him lean on her; his head in the crook of her neck, and for once didn’t think about his skin touching hers – just about the way that his body shook, and his grip on her tightened as he muffled his sobs in her t-shirt.

 

**Day Thirty Three**

It was raining.

“I could really go for a game of Monopoly, about now,” Raven commented absently, as Clarke suddenly perked up.

Five hours later and Octavia was stropping in the corner, Wick had been bankrupt for an hour and Bellamy was watching the entire thing in disbelief. Raven mortgaged off another property and Clarke rolled the dice, landing on Bellamy’s hotels.

“Seven hundred,” he told her carefully. Clarke shuffled through her wad of money, albeit smugly, and handed the money over. “That’s not possible!” Bellamy cried out. “You don’t have the money for this! Where is it all coming from?!”

Clarke chose not to tell him that they had another Monopoly board, back home, and she brought the extra money with her. Nor that it was stuffed in her pockets, and withdrawn when she went to the bathroom, or whenever they turned away. And she definitely was not going to tell him that she stole from Free Parking.

 

**Day Thirty Nine**

Raven hugged Bellamy as he stood by his car, and planted a kiss on his cheek with a grin.

“See you next year, Blake,” she grinned. Wick was next, and Abby and Jason gave him claps on the shoulder as they passed. Octavia clung to Abby and then Clarke, before jumping on Wick in a goodbye.

Bellamy held Clarke tightly, and Clarke breathed in deeply. He wore her father’s old jacket because it looked like it was going to rain, and she could still smell Jake Griffin in the same way that she could smell Bellamy Blake. He kissed her forehead, right over the old scar and smiled.

“Why was _Beauty and The Beast_ the story of Clarke and Bellamy?” She asked quietly, hoping the others wouldn’t hear her from the other side of the car. He stared in confusion for a moment before something clicked in his mind. Bellamy smiled gently before shrugging, opening the car door.

“Well, you’re certainly Beauty,” he grinned. “And there is certainly a time limit.” But that’s all he told her before he climbed into the car, and Octavia joined him on the other side. Clarke stood next to her brother, Raven on the other side of him, and waved as their car disappeared down the road.

Clarke joked in her mind about there being an actual rose, wilting over each summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Please do remember that I have another completed multi-chapter fic (60k) called Everybody's Looking For Something, that received some amazing reviews, so I definitely think you should go and check that out. Like I said yesterday, I've hit a wall and I need more ideas for future summers! The seventh summer has been written, but I can't even start the eight yet, with no ideas - so if you have anything, DEFINITELY let me know!


	7. Summer Seven

**Day One**

Clarke helped the nine year old Octavia with her suitcase after she jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Aurora struggle a little, heavy on her feet and using Bellamy, now eighteen, as a post to lean on. She was pale, and Abby promised that she would keep an eye on her throughout the summer, but they all knew what this was. This was her last time at the lake house – six years of tradition, being swallowed by her final moments.

Octavia shrugged on her backpack and wheeled her suitcase along the drive way as Clarke yanked out the other two. Wick took one from her – Aurora’s, it seemed – and Clarke pulled Bellamy’s. She noticed the other bag in the boot, and took that out, too, before Wick slammed the Blake’s car shut. Clarke only glanced down at the bag as she brought it in, but she knew it was Aurora’s tablets.

The eldest Blake reclined into her seat with a sigh, and Clarke smiled warmly at her as she passed.

“What do I do with this?” She asked, holding up the bag of pills.

“Oh, that’ll go in the kitchen, thank you,” Aurora said, her naturally quiet voice even harder to hear than Clarke remembered. Bellamy was crouched by her side, talking in low tones, and Clarke moved along, first leaving the bag on the counter, before hefting Bellamy’s suitcase and taking it to his room.

She only lingered for a moment in there; the dark blue walls, mostly bare apart from a couple of photos. Clarke whipped opened the curtains, coughing a little at the dust. For a moment, she looked out the window, at the drive way and the houses opposite, with the neighbours she never met – holiday homes rented out each year by different people – and then she turned away. Clarke knew this would be a long summer.

 

**Day Two**

Raven came round in the afternoon, after work, to find the other four already in the lake. She grinned and ran along the dock, jumping into the lake at the end, and causing Clarke to wrinkle up her nose at the splash. The older girl swam around the group, planting a kiss on Clarke’s cheek, a brief hug to Bellamy and Octavia, and a grin to Wick (and a science joke that Clarke didn’t understand).

They’d kept in contact with her like they did with each other, and Raven joined them for dinner, sitting around the table in the Griffin’s back garden, happily chatting with Abby as Clarke listened to the conversation wash over her.

On her left, Bellamy sat next to his mother, and she noticed that he was very attentive; helping her whenever she asked and making sure to include her in the conversation at any cost. She wondered how far away Aurora was from the line – Clarke had been around hospitals all her life, and at some point, she started listening in as the doctors delivered bad news. This was no different to her – Aurora was going to die. Clarke knew it and so did everyone at the table.

And she admired Bellamy, for spending every last moment with her.

 

**Day Four**

“So, Ark University?” Clarke asked with a smile, as she and Bellamy wandered along the trail in the woods. She had persuaded him that his mother could do with a nap, and he’d agreed to go on a walk; wandering around the town they both loved, while both specifically not saying that he wouldn’t be coming back the next summer.

“Ark University,” he repeated with a nod.

“You know, that’s only thirty seven miles from my house,” she said mildly, specifically not looking at him. Clarke heard her best friend’s laugh anyway.

“I know, I’ve done the maths,” he replied. “I don’t know if I’ll be going though.” Her head turned to him.

“What?” He shrugged.

“Well, there’s my Mum – and she needs help at home, and O, as well.”

“Bellamy, this is your future,” she said, tilting her head. He nodded.

“I know, Clarke, but this is my mother’s and my sister’s, too. What if Mum dies before I go back to university?” She watched him for a moment before he continued. “What happens to Octavia? I can’t let her go to someone else! We don’t have any uncles or aunts, and both lots of grandparents are dead. If I don’t take her, she’ll go into foster care. I can’t let that happen, Clarke, I can’t.”

She nodded, reaching out her hand and taking his. Clarke squeezed his hand gently and felt him squeeze hers in return.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised. “I know we will.”

 

**Day Six**

Clarke and Octavia were out on their bikes; Wick deciding to visit Raven in the car shop where she worked (“I better get started on the whole _making Raven Reyes my wife_ plan,” he’d said earlier that morning) and Bellamy looking after his mother. They rode alongside each other, talking as they went, dodging civilians and working their way through town.

Then Octavia didn’t turn fast enough or the pedestrian didn’t get out of the way, and Clarke heard a scream from behind her. She immediately stomped her feet into the ground, spinning suddenly to find her friend. Octavia was on the ground, her bike on top of her, and a teenage girl caught between the two.

“What the fuck?” The stranger asked, and Octavia looked groggily at her. Clarke almost reprimanded her language, but was too busy, jumping off of her bike and abandoning it on the street as she raced to Octavia’s side. She was careful in lifting up the smaller, pinker bike and moving it to the side, and helping her friend sit up, her face red with tears.

“Octavia, are you okay?” Clarke asked first. The girl shook her head rapidly as she began to cry; and Clarke wrapped her arms around her, holding her friend to her body as she slowly swayed. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” She looked at the stranger, now. The girl was about her age, with light brown hair and a lean figure. She was rubbing her head, and glaring at any of the passers-by who so much as glanced at her. “Hey, sorry, are you alright?” She asked the stranger. The girl looked over now.

“It’s just a scratch,” she said with a shrug, rubbing at a spot on her thigh that must have been hurting. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Clarke continued. “I guess Tae is pretty rattled by it, too.” The stranger just nodded.

“Don’t worry,” she said. The stranger moved to open her mouth again when another voice spoke out.

“Anya?” It was a male voice; a kid, about Clarke’s age or just younger. He jogged over, hefting the girl – Anya, it seemed – onto her feet, even though she shrugged him off. “What happened.”

“This girl ran her bike into me,” Anya explained simply. Clarke tugged Octavia closer to her chest as her friend cried; Clarke could see the blood, dripping down from her knee, and even though it was just a scratch, she could remember the pain from one of her first summers. But Clarke was no Bellamy when it came to looking after kids, and so she just held the brunette and hoped the wound would closed itself. (What a terrible doctor you’d be, Clarke told herself absently.)

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” the boy said, moving away from the stranger. He knelt down in front of Octavia and sent a cursory glance to Clarke, watching him curiously. The boy took one of Octavia’s hands in his and smiled warmly. “Can I see?” Octavia paused before nodding, tears still streaming down her face. She shifted her leg with a sob, and the strange boy took a gentle look. “Oh, well that looks painful,” he sighed. “But it’s also going to heal to be good as new – you might even get a cool scar from it.” Octavia watched him, but she didn’t stop crying.

“What’s your name?” The boy asked, staring at Octavia and acting if Clarke wasn’t even there. “I’m Lincoln, and that’s my cousin, Anya.” Octavia coughed and rubbed her fist at her eye. She mumbled her name and Lincoln asked her to say it again, a little louder.

“Octavia,” her girl said. Lincoln smiled.

“Octavia, that’s a beautiful name.” Clarke smiled as she watched them, and as Octavia refused to let go of Lincoln’s hand. “Well, you want to hear my trick for when I hurt myself?” Octavia nodded ferociously. “It’s a little motto, in my head-“

“Like hakuna matata?” Octavia asked. Lincoln grinned.

“Just like that. But mine is get knocked down, get back up.” Octavia repeated it back to him, nodding to herself. “And you’ve been knocked down,” he said next. “You want to try getting back up?”

Clarke watched as Lincoln helped the brunette girl back onto her feet, and the way they smiled at each other. Lincoln apologised for his cousin not looking where she was going (Anya scoffed at that) and they hugged before saying goodbye.

“I like him,” Octavia announced as the two girls wheeled their bikes back home.

“I can tell,” Clarke replied with a smile. Apparently, boys helping girls when they hurt themselves on their bikes deemed the boy to be crush-worthy.

 

**Day Nine**

Wick was nowhere to be found and Octavia claimed he’d gone to see his girlfriend – who Clarke presumed was Raven. So she invited the older Blake swimming, and he only agreed after far too long of protesting, and Aurora butted in and told him to go – Abby was a trained doctor and sitting right next to her; he could go and have fun.

They jumped into the lake, and Clarke wiped her hair from her eyes, looking over at the dark locks that were plastered to Bellamy’s forehead.

“Do you remember the first time you swam here?” She asked happily, drifting through the water.

“And I claimed I could swim?” Clarke chuckled.

“You were a bad liar, even then.”

“Hey!” He complained, but neither commented on it. “I remember you teaching me to swim,” he said next. “I spent the whole summer feeling like such an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because I was practically a teenager, being taught to swim by a nine year old.” They grinned at each other.

“I was a good teacher, though, right?” Bellamy smiled and nodded.

“The best.”

 

**Day Thirteen**

“Reyes,” Clarke greeted, walking into the car shop behind Wick. Raven grinned over the other blond’s shoulder.

“Griffin,” she said, pulling her in for a hug. “And just when I thought I would be stuck with Wick all summer.”

“Oh, you are,” Clarke confirmed. “He’s not going to leave your side. But I thought you should see a non-stalkerish face before you realised that.” Raven laughed, and showed her around the shop. It was dark and brown, with sunlight only filtering through the open garage doors. Cars were parked across the shop, which looked more like a warehouse, some up in the air, but most obviously broken.

Wick stayed behind as Clarke and Raven wandered through, so he could look at an engine another mechanic was fixing.

“So, have you shagged Bellamy yet?” Raven asked, wiping her hands on a rag.

“ _What_?” Clarke spluttered, staring wide eyed as Raven laughed.

“I’ll take that as a no. Have you at least told him you like him?” Clarke shrugged, looking away.

“He’s eighteen, he doesn’t like me,” Clarke said quietly.

“Has he told you that?”

“Well, no – but it doesn’t matter. He’s spending time with Aurora this summer, anyway.”

“Clarke,” Raven said, stopping the two girls. The older put her hands on the younger’s shoulders, staring directly at her. “This could be his _last_ summer,” she told Clarke firmly. “You have to tell him.”

 

**Day Fourteen**

Clarke was going to tell him as they hung back, behind the group as they wandered through town. Abby and Jason were at the front, with Wick, Aurora and Octavia in the middle. Clarke’s hand inched closer to Bellamy’s as they walked, but she didn’t reach out for it. She was fifteen, he was eighteen. He didn’t like her.

She knew she had to tell him anyway, but when she opened her mouth, Octavia screamed out a name.

“Lincoln!” She cried out, and Clarke’s head snapped around to watch the little girl run over the boy. Looking at him now, he must have been thirteen – fourteen at the most. But he was well-built; tall with broad shoulders, and very closely cropped hair. Lincoln smiled when he saw Octavia, crouching down and enveloping her into a hug.

“Who the hell is that?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke could hear the anger making its way into his tone.

“Lincoln,” Clarke smiled. “He was the one who helped out when Octavia drove her bike into that stranger?” Bellamy nodded shortly but he didn’t comment, and Clarke jogged after the younger girl to say hello to Lincoln, and effectively moving away from Bellamy.

 

**Day Fifteen**

She was going to tell him in the lake, but then Raven ran along the dock and cannonballed in, and Bellamy laughed and their moment was ruined.

 

**Day Sixteen**

She thought she should tell him when he was on the hill with her; but the conversation moved onto Aurora, and her condition, and Clarke couldn’t bring herself to change the topic.

 

**Day Seventeen**

Octavia spotted Lincoln again when they were out for a walk, and Bellamy started talking to the guy, finding out that he wasn’t half bad. Clarke had considered telling him about her crush, but it was pretty hard to do it when Octavia was happily dancing around their feet.

 

**Day Eighteen**

She sat with Aurora on the sofa and watched a film with her – Sleeping Beauty. Aurora had laughed when Clarke chose it, albeit slightly weakly, and told her that she hadn’t expected anything else. Half way through the film Bellamy came down stairs and smiled at the TV, lowering himself into the seat between the two women, and taking his mother’s hand. Clarke found her head resting on his shoulder by the end of the film.

 

**Day Nineteen**

Aurora wanted to go out on a boat on the lake, so Bellamy found the number of the company that rented out the boats, a quarter of the lake away, and they all went down together. The seven of them rented a large boat, and the instructor taught Jason how to drive it as Wick, Bellamy and Clarke listened in. After a minute or two, they started taking turns at driving and Clarke missed the spray of the water, cooling off her skin.

When she wasn’t driving, she sat with the others, and watched Aurora out of the corner of her eye, smiling at the people around her, and basking in the sun.

 

**Day Twenty**

Bellamy’s phone rang and he scrambled to pick it up, even though it was lunch time, and everyone was sitting around the table. They all stared as he scraped his chair back and paced away from the table, talking down the phone.

Everyone was silent as they waited.

It was the day the grades came out, and Bellamy was getting Murphy to collect them for him, and phone him. Bellamy disappeared from their line of sight and only Octavia continued to eat; not understanding the weight of the situation – how it would define the rest of his life.

A couple of minutes later, he reappeared and sat back down beside Clarke, gently placing his phone on the table.

“I got into Ark University,” he smiled, and the table erupted with happiness. Clarke heard a few cheers, and the congratulations of the two families. She hugged him tightly; the first to do so, and she felt him grip her in return.

 

**Day Twenty One**

Clarke looked at Bellamy, sitting on the grass in a deep conversation with her almost-step-brother. She wanted to go over, and tell him that she liked him (hell, she _loved_ him), but she couldn’t. Instead, she tip toed down the steps of her house, and went over to his. Like she expected, Aurora was sat on the sofa, with Abby checking her temperature.

“If you feel any worse, you must tell me,” Abby said firmly to the other woman. Aurora just nodded. “I’m serious – you have to tell me, okay?”

“Of course, now go and be with Jason, already,” Aurora smiled, ushering her away. “I obviously have another visitor, anyway, and you two still need to plan that wedding.” Clarke’s mother rolled her eyes, stepping away from the other woman and glancing at Clarke in turn. They all knew that the wedding was planned down to what shape the napkins would be folded into, for the September only a few weeks away.

Aurora would be attending with her two children, if she was well enough, and if not, Bellamy was hoping to make the trip with Octavia on their own. So Abby smiled and left, and Clarke got comfortable on the sofa next to Aurora.

“How has your summer been?” The woman asked with a smile. Clarke shrugged.

“Good, like normal, I guess.”

“And how’s life with Jason and Kyle?” Clarke glanced away for a moment.

“Busy,” she admitted. Aurora didn’t say anything so Clarke saw it as a reason for her to continue. “Jason’s really full-on, you know? He’s always doing stuff, and Wick is just as bad. Plus Mum’s always at work, so it’s just me and them all running in and out.”

“Have you gotten to know Jason, yet?” Clarke shook her head. “It’s been three years – I think it’s time to find out his middle name.” Clarke laughed at this.

“I know his middle name!”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” Clarke paused and squinted her eyes, tilting her head to the right in thought.

“Matthe-Marv-Micha-“ She sighed, tipping her head back. “Okay, I have no idea.”

“It’s Daniel,” Aurora grinned.

“Okay, but why does that matter?” Clarke asked, a little loudly. “I don’t need to know his middle name!”

“Which is good,” Aurora agreed. “Because you don’t.” Clarke rolled her eyes and shifted on the cushion.

“Middle names aren’t important,” Clarke grumbled.

“Maybe not, but it’s nice to know them, Clarke _Clarissa_ Griffin,” Aurora smiled. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for the lesson, Aurora _May_ Blake.” Next to her, the eldest Blake laughed, and Clarke studied her for a moment. She wore a scarf around her head, and Clarke knew that her hair used to be the same length as Octavia’s, and the same colour as Bellamy’s. Her dark eyes barely retained any of the sparkle they used to hold when she laughed, but it flickered briefly instead. The lines the fairies gave her, by the corners of her eyes, were still prominent, and they reminded her of her father’s. Aurora’s skin was paler than she’d ever seen it before, and she wore loose, light clothing.

And while the gentle spirit remained, Clarke couldn’t help but notice that this was a smaller, sicker version of the woman that she’d known for seven years of her life.

“Clarke,” Aurora said in the silence, and by the tone of her voice, the younger girl could tell it was serious. “I want you to make sure Bellamy gets out of the house for the rest of the summer. He’s worrying over me too much – he needs to go out and ride his bike, or swim, or just…” she trailed off with a sigh, her eyes staring out the window. “Just live his life, you know?” The blonde knew and nodded her head, wondering if Aurora meant just the summer, or the rest of his life. “Has he told you about University?”

“He wants to decline,” Clarke replied. Aurora nodded.

“He wants to look after his sister. It’s admirable, and I know he’s doing the right thing – but he can’t give up on his future, Clarke. He can’t.” There was silence and Clarke thought of Bellamy; the way he looked at his sister and was willing to die for her. She swallowed, knowing that Aurora had instilled those beliefs in him when his sister was born.

“His sister, his responsibility,” Clarke said quietly. She felt Aurora’s eyes on her, but she didn’t meet them, just stared away.

“Look after him, Clarke,” Aurora said, before falling into a coughing fit. Clarke waited it out, watching nervously until the woman asked for her glass of water. Clarke handed it to her and took it when she’d had a drink.  But their conversation was over, and Clarke waited in silence until the next person came to see Aurora.

That night, Aurora’s temperature rose and she was admitted to hospital, after Bellamy banged on the door of Clarke’s house and Abby ran out of the front door and over to his house. Clarke climbed into the car; Aurora stretched out along the back seats with her head on Octavia’s lap, and Abby and Bellamy in the front. Clarke sat on her friend’s lap, and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the way his fingers dug into her sides, but not telling him that it hurt.

She knew it would leave bruises anyway.

 

**Day Twenty Two**

Clarke sat with her hand firmly gripping Bellamy’s in the hospital waiting room. His mother was on a drip and the doctors were doing whatever they could to help her, and with Abby’s position as a fairly famous surgeon across the country, she was able to bypass the crap that the nurses were trying to feed them, and find out about her actual condition. Octavia’s head rested in Bellamy’s lap as she slept, but the other two were wide awake, staring at the wall ahead of them and the posters that she’d read a thousand times.

Clarke wondered if this was what it was like for Aurora and Abby, when they brought Octavia in with the flu, a few years beforehand. Or, what it was like for every family she passed in the halls of the hospital at home, when she was trying to find her mother’s office.

They sat in silence and Jason and Wick appeared an hour or two after they arrived, with breakfast and drinks. Bellamy held his tea but didn’t drink any, just stared at the wall as Clarke drank from the bottle she’d been given. Wick sat on her other side, and tapped away at his phone – presumably to Raven. All in all, they stayed very quiet, and Clarke took Bellamy’s drink when it was cold, and got a new one for him to hold after. She lead Octavia to the toilets when she needed it, and provided a pillow for Wick’s head when he got tired.

But Clarke didn’t sleep, and she waited, gripping Bellamy’s hand whenever she was close by, for the entire day.

 

**Day Twenty Three**

Aurora came home with an upped-dosage, and she slept most of the day. Bellamy made Octavia’s meals and Clarke made Bellamy’s, when he insisted he wasn’t hungry, and she wouldn’t leave until he’d eaten.

They sat out on the grass, just the two of them, when Wick and Octavia were in the water, and Clarke leant her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to talk.

“Do you remember when I taught you to kiss?” He asked quietly, and Clarke looked up to find his eyes firmly on the tire swing.

“Yes,” Clarke replied. _Vividly_ , her mind added. Bellamy nodded and she felt him tighten his grip on her hand, as she wondered where he wanted to go with this. But apparently it was nowhere, since he didn’t speak again. “Why?” She questioned. His shoulders shifted and she assumed it to be a shrug. Clarke remembered Aurora telling her to look after him, to make sure he lived his life, and she wanted to ask her if that was in regards to her, personally, or to his entire existence.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it, lately.” Clarke removed her head from his shoulder and looked at him, carefully, trying to figure out what he meant by that. He was older and taller, and broader than she remembered him, and his hair was at that length where it flopped over his forehead, but not long enough to form full curls. It was evident on his face that he was tired, and Clarke guessed that he hadn’t slept at all the night before. But his grip on her hand was still strong, and he must have been pulling his reserves of energy out of somewhere.

He was eighteen. Three years older, and Clarke didn’t know a whole lot about the law, and she wondered what was okay – then, was it ethically and morally all right? But they had always had the same age gap, only now he was an adult and he was going off to university, and Clarke wanted him so much to go and live his life, but also to keep his sister, and then to stay with her at the lake houses and never leave.

His eyes turned to hers and there was this deep sadness in them that Clarke couldn’t understand. She knew that there was a whole portion of his upset, devoted to his mother, but it felt as if some of it had been spared for her.

She didn’t really know what she was thinking when she surged forward and kissed him.

Clarke just wanted to, and her entire body itched to be closer; so she reached up and placed her lips on hers, moving her free hand to his neck and her eyes shut. For the first moment, she was kissing a statue, frozen solid. But then she felt him kiss back; she felt his pressure and weight on her, directing their lips and tilting their heads, and then he was gone.

Her eyes flew open in time to watch his do so as well. They stared at each other first, before she shifted away.

“I’m – uh, I’m so- oh my god- I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, yanking her hand from his grip and standing. She didn’t say anything else before she turned and ran back into her house. Clarke only glanced out the window on the way up the stairs, to find him staring at her house in wonder, or possibly confusion.

 

**Day Twenty Four**

Bellamy stared at her across the dinner table after she avoided him throughout the day. He didn’t say a word to her, though, and that evening, when they’re swimming, he just swam around in circles until he said he’s tired and went to bed.

 

**Day Twenty Five**

When Octavia spotted Lincoln across the road, Bellamy walked her over and Clarke hung back, with Wick. Afterwards, Octavia relayed the entire encounter to the almost-siblings, and Bellamy didn’t say a word.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

“Is Bellamy okay?” Wick asked as Clarke rummaged through her drawers for some clean clothes. On the other side of the room, Wick tugged on a t-shirt as he spoke. Clarke shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t seem like it.”

“His mother has cancer.”

“Even so.”

 

**Day Twenty Seven**

Clarke hadn’t spoken more than three words to Bellamy since their kiss (when he _definitely_ kissed her back) and when she spotted Raven, sauntering down the road as if she owned it, she knew she had to tell someone about it.

Clarke dumped the bin bag in the bin, and ran over, to stop Raven in her tracks.

“Hey,” the other girl said, raising an eyebrow at Clarke’s interest in talking to her.

“I didn’t know you were coming over today,” Clarke replied, instead of a greeting. Raven paused and then nodded.

“Wick invited me over.” Clarke nodded, falling into step with her. Wick was still working on his plan, and Raven wasn’t actually his girlfriend, but instead tough enough for him to have to actually _form_ a plan, to get her to go out with him. But her brother’s love life wasn’t the topic of conversation she wanted to have.

“I told him,” she blurted out suddenly, and Raven stopped walking, her head turning on her carefully.

“You told Bellamy you liked him?” She asked slowly. Clarke nodded and then shook her head.

“In a way,” she replied.

“In what way?”

“I kissed him.”

“Holy shit- _what_?” Raven’s eyes were wide, and she gripped Clarke’s arms in her excitement. “Is this why Wick has been asking why he’s been so odd?”

“He used the word ‘odd’?” Clarke asked dryly.

“Well, ‘distant’, ‘confused’ and a little ‘distracted’,” she amended with a shrug. “But you did it.” Clarke nodded. “Did he kiss you back?” She nodded again with a small smile on her face.

“He was the one to stop it, though,” she explained. Raven blew out a sigh and they continued walking to the houses. Together, the girls walked down the strip of grass that divided the two, and the first person they saw was Bellamy, sitting on the tire swing as it slowly spun. Bellamy saw them but didn’t make any movements; just spun.

“Raven, I think I’ve broken Bellamy Blake.”

 

**Day Twenty Nine**

Raven had been at her house, and spent most of her moments having hushed conversations with Bellamy, much to Wick’s dismay.

“You know, I invite her round so I can charm her, right?” Clarke snorted.

“Sure,” she sighed sarcastically.

“I don’t ask her over so she can get all cosy with Bellamy again – or is she trying to fix him, because something’s definitely been off these past few days.” Clarke only spared him a glance before shrugging and leaving their shared bedroom, thumping down the stairs and out into the garden, hoping for the hit of fresh air to help her. Instead, she found Bellamy, sitting on the middle step, with his legs long enough to meet the grass.

She doubted he was waiting there for Wick, so she lightly moved beside him and took the seat at his side, and waited for him to talk.

“Hey,” was all he said.

“Hi,” she replied quietly. Clarke looked out over the lake and her gaze traced along the shoreline; over the bumps and crevices and past the new dock, built from where the old one was bulldozed by two blondes and a boat.

“Clarke-“ Bellamy started before pausing, and she knew it wasn’t going to be good, whatever he had to say; he only called her ‘Clarke’ instead of ‘Princess’ when he was being serious. But he didn’t speak again, so she looked over. His face looked tormented, like he was struggling with something inside, and Clarke wanted nothing more than to relieve that pain.

“Bell, I’m sorry,” she sighed, and he turned to look at her. “I shouldn’t have kissed you – I mean, I shouldn’t have without asking you first, or thinking for even a moment about how it could change things. I guess I just wanted to.” She sighed again. “This is a terrible apology.” Bellamy cracked a smile at that, and her heart fluttered in the same way it did every time he grinned.

“Clarke, it’s – it’s okay,” he replied slowly. “I sort of lead you to that place anyway, with the topic of the, um,” he nodded his head towards the tire swing and Clarke nodded, only a small smile on her face.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you, too,” she told him next. He nodded.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you when you were done with avoiding me,” he replied, and Clarke watched the corners of his lips tilt upwards. “I guess we both made some mistakes, here.” The two nodded, more to themselves than to each other, and Bellamy held his hand out, palm up and fingers separated in between them. “You think we can start over?” He asked. “Back to when we could just be unconditional best friends?” Clarke grinned then, covering his hand with hers, and lacing their fingers together.

“Absolutely,” she replied. Clarke didn’t mind the feeling she had in her stomach, when he said he wanted to be friends – because Clarke would give anything to just be in his life; even if she was just the waitress at his favourite café.

 

**Day Thirty One**

“Thank you,” she told Raven, hugging her tightly.

“No problem, Griffin,” the girl said into the crook of her neck. “Anytime.”

 

**Day Thirty Two**

“Teach me how to cheat at Monopoly,” Bellamy said over their showing of _Cinderella_. Clarke grinned but shook her head.

“Then you’d beat me,” she replied.

“ _Or_ ,” he suggested. “We could dominate the game together, and I could bring your tactics back to my town and we’d start a Monopoly empire.” Clarke laughed; she had to admit that she liked that idea.

 

**Day Thirty Four**

“Are they dating yet?” He asked her quietly, as the two walked behind Wick and Raven through town. Clarke shook her head.

“But don’t worry – it’s a three year plan he’s got mapped out.”

 

**Day Thirty Seven**

“How are you getting to the wedding?” Clarke asked as she stripped off her ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt, still comfortably baggy on her.

“I’m driving,” Bellamy replied, tugging his own t-shirt over his head.

 

**Day Thirty Eight**

“University,” she said to him, sitting crossed legged on the grass. Bellamy sighed.

“Princess-“

“Come on, Bell, this is your future,” she sighed. He rolled his eyes.

“I know that – but what if Mum’s gone before the year starts, do you know how difficult it is to get custody _and_ go to university?”

“Bell, you’d figure it out. You could take her with you.”

“I can’t drag her across the country.”

“Maybe you should ask her what she wants?” He only sighed and flopped onto his back, and Clarke laid with him, staring at the clouds.

 

**Day Thirty Nine**

“I’ll see you in a week and a half,” Bellamy said into her hair as they hugged goodbye.

“You better,” she returned, her voice muffled by his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's a warning that the next chapter is amazingly short. Like, not even a thousand words. I was going to do a time jump, but I really wanted to map them all out, and show you what it's like for Clarke when Bellamy's not around and stuff like that. So, short chapter coming up, but thank you guys so much for reading and commenting. I really appreciate it. I'm once again stuck on chapter ten, but you guys have been giving some great suggestions that I've been using pretty liberally - so if you have any more ideas for things that might happen, definitely tell me?


	8. Summer Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this chapter is super SUPER short. And also being posted a little later than usual.

**Day One**

Clarke arrived and she glanced over to the Blake house, empty with the curtains closed.

 

**Day Five**

She and Wick floated in the lake and she sighed, missing the familiar presence of her friends.

 

**Day Ten**

Clarke walked into her bedroom and halted immediately. She turned around at the sight of Raven and Wick, kissing, and she wished she had someone to tell.

 

**Day Twelve**

Clarke phoned Bellamy and his voice was sad on the phone. He said he wished he could have been there.

 

**Day Seventeen**

She was in town with Raven and Wick and felt like a third wheel. She smiled at Lincoln when he passed, but without the younger girl with her, she just kept walking.

 

**Day Twenty**

Clarke looked at the Monopoly box on the shelf and wondered if Bellamy had been practicing his cheating. Last time they spoke about it he told her that he’d crushed his friends Murphy and Miller in a four hour game using her tactics. Clarke wondered if he was keeping their empire safe.

 

**Day Twenty Five**

Abby twisted her wedding ring around her finger and Clarke watched; her head rested on the table.

 

**Day Twenty Seven**

Clarke remembered her mother’s wedding day, fondly. Although she remembered arguing with her in the days running up to it, over Jake Griffin and how quickly Abby had moved on, she couldn’t help but admit that her mother was happy, standing at the altar. Clarke had been the maid of honour, and watched her mother marry a man that wasn’t her father, while all three Blakes sat in the pews.

At the reception, Bellamy whisked her away for every dance; they laughed and joked, and Octavia kept Wick for herself throughout the evening. She was surprised that Bellamy could dance, or that he was so carefree for the evening, but she sat with Aurora for a couple of minutes when Bellamy went to get them drinks, and she noticed the other woman look better than usual.

“They started me on an experimental drug,” Aurora told her with a smile.

“And you’ve been feeling better?” She nodded happily.

“It seems that when I’m feeling better, Bellamy is, too.” Aurora nodded over to her son, wandering back with their drinks and Clarke smiled. It was a shame that within a matter of month, Aurora was found dead in her bedroom.

 

**Day Thirty**

Clarke found the Blake’s house key in the cupboard in the kitchen, and unlocked their door. She didn’t care that she was trespassing; so she sat on their sofa, with the curtains closed and the lights off. Clarke refused to cry, and took long, heavy breaths.

She texted Bellamy and told him that she wished he was there – and that she wanted someone to go to the museum with – and he replied only a minute later promising to try and make it out next year.

 

**Day Thirty Six**

Raven kissed Wick on the dock, so Clarke dunked her head under the water and held her breath. When she resurfaced they’d gotten up to go for a walk, and the moment they were out of sight, she leant forward in the water, curling up into a ball and using her hands to propel her in the lake.

At least she could somersault in the water, now.

 

**Day Forty**

She hugged Raven goodbye and climbed into the car. In the summers before she met Bellamy; she had been happy with being alone. She had been able to have fun on those days. But, she realised, never having something, and having and losing it, were two very different things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure? I'm losing interest in this story fast. I've run out of the ability to truly care what happens to it, and I don't have the effort to continue. In that spirit, I NEED IDEAS. I've written the next chapter, and have completed a single day of the summer after - but further than that, I don't know.  
> I don't want it to be one of those stories that the minute Clarke turns eighteen, Bellamy admits his undying love for her, because it's suddenly legal in America (while actually being legal hear in England for two years prior). But, at the same time, it feels like Bellamy would take the earliest chance he got, right? With that said, it was legal for them to be together two years beforehand, so he's also got some other obstacles to overcome - such as, Octavia, maturity, university etc. In conclusion, I have no idea where I'm going with the story or how many chapters will be left. I am also procrastinating doing my homework and I should really get on with that.


	9. Summer Nine

**Day Three**

Clarke sat on her bed, her ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt still baggy on her torso like it always had been. She was seventeen and waiting, her hands drumming on her thighs, listening out for the sound of a motor and the tires hitting the road. At the sound of every passing car, she rocketed from her bed and to the window, just to watch in dismay as it passed by. But she couldn’t take it any longer – it was happening today, and she had to be ready.

Hell, Clarke had been ready for two years.

She decided that it would be better to wait outside, and thumped down the stairs, passing Wick as she went, who just grumbled and made way for her.

“They’re not here, yet,” he called behind her, but she didn’t care. Because they would be there, soon, and she would be ready for them.

Clarke hadn’t seen Bellamy in two years – not face to face, anyway. They had made it over for Abby’s wedding, just to leave early the next morning to get home in time for Octavia’s school, the day after that. Bellamy had deferred Ark University for a year, and had now just completed his first year, with custody of Octavia, and them both happily situated in Ark, only thirty seven miles away from her home – and yet, she still hadn’t seen them once.

Their communication had gone from every Saturday, to three or four times a week, with Octavia, now eleven, butting in on the phone calls to say hello, and separately calling from her brother’s phone so she could talk to Wick. But Clarke craved for Bellamy to be close again; for his skin to touch hers and for them to be able to laugh together. She wanted to see his eyes light up when he grinned, or the way his mouth pulled at the corners when he smirked; his hair when it was plastered to his forehead or the scars on his knuckles from the fights during his young teenage years that Clarke had heard of, but never witnessed.

Two years before, they had planted themselves firmly in the best friend category, and they both refused to let that go. And Clarke understood perfectly that they wouldn’t be together; she’d accepted it easily and dated her heart out for the past two years.

Monroe, Harper and she were just best friends, and no longer anything more; and she’d tried her luck with Wells, too, and still hadn’t found anything worth keeping, there. For a time she’d been infatuated by a girl named Lexa, but it wasn’t right; their lips didn’t fit together properly, and Clarke’s hands felt awkward when they touched her.

While she knew Bellamy wouldn’t be the one for her – they were destined to be friends, and nothing more – she also knew that he was the closest she had gotten to feeling right with someone. So, Clarke had resolved to find someone that made her feel like that – just not Bellamy.

From her place on the front steps of her house, her head shot up at the sound of music, blaring from car speakers. A red truck came into view – a different car to what she remembered, but containing Bellamy and Octavia all the same. Clarke immediately shot out of her seat and jogged over to their drive way as he parked, only briefly noting a third person in the front seat.

Octavia was first out, with a squeal, bounding into Clarke’s open arms and laughing as they hugged. She was too big for Clarke to pick up and spin around, but she didn’t care, because the eleven year old held her tightly, squeezing for all she was worth, and Clarke felt at home.

The moment she looked up, Bellamy’s chest blocked her view. He enveloped her into a hug as Octavia continued to cling on, and Clarke held both of the Blake’s; her head resting on Bellamy’s chest, and one arm around his waist while the other lay across Octavia’s shoulders.

“God, I missed you,” Bellamy muttered into her hair, as Clarke breathed him in. He still smelt like the sea, when it wasn’t for miles, and Clarke would never figure out how it was possible. Instead of caring, she held tightly and breathed deeper, hoping that if she were going to die, that would be the moment; enclosed in the arms of the people she loved.

However, Clarke didn’t die that moment, and she briefly heard the sound of a front door, before Octavia was whisked away from her side. Clarke watched with a grin as Wick lifted the girl into the air, spinning her in a hug in the way that Clarke wasn’t strong enough to. Octavia clung on for dear life; her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso; her head hidden in the crook of his shoulder. She laughed and held Bellamy tighter for a moment before pulling away and looking up at him.

While she had grown in height, she was still tiny compared to him. His jaw was a strong line, and his shoulders still broad. He was twenty, now, with his hair still curling at the tips, but shorter than she remembered it, and his eyes just as dark. Still scattered across his face were the freckles that she’d spent many summer days counting, and his mouth was wide with a smile.

“Last summer sucked so much without you,” she informed him, poking a finger at his chest. “Never leave me like that again.” Bellamy laughed, crushing her in for a quick hug.

“I won’t,” he promised, and even though Clarke knew he would be leaving within the week, she didn’t care. He was here now, that’s what mattered.

A moment later, Bellamy remembered he’d brought a friend with him, and he introduced the two blondes to Nathan Miller; who had dark skin and a faint beard, and wore a beanie on his head. Clarke wondered why he was wearing a hat like that in summer, but she didn’t think on it long, before Miller looked between the two of them.

“You two are brother and sister?” He asked, and the blondes nodded.

“Since birth,” Wick lied with a smile. Bellamy and Octavia smiled knowingly at the siblings but didn’t let the lie slip. They nodded and Miller seemed content by the answer, before yanking his duffle bag from the bed of the truck and following the Blakes inside.

“Didn’t bother to dust while we were away?” Bellamy asked, coughing as he pulled back the curtains.

“Thought it would look better during ghost stories,” Clarke shrugged with a smile.

“How long has it been since people have been in here?” Miller asked as light slowly filtered into the living room.

“Technically, about a day,” Wick replied with a shrug, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him. “We bought groceries, because yours grew mould about a year and a half ago. Otherwise, it’s been like, two years.” Clarke decided not to mention that she had come in during the summer before – she hadn’t disturbed the dust, so it didn’t really matter. Bellamy muttered his thanks and continued on through the house. He led Miller into his old bedroom, saying that his friend could use it. Octavia had settled into her room, and Bellamy wandered into his mother’s.

Only Clarke followed him in.

She watched the muscles in his shoulders tense as he dumped his suitcase on the bed, and his jaw grind in his mouth. His eyes scanned the room; the floral wallpaper, the bare furniture. The relief he’d seemed to be feeling only minutes before, when he was hugging Clarke, had vanished, and he swallowed as Clarke watched; wondering what she could do to make him feel better.

But Bellamy glanced over and smiled weakly, and her thoughts evaporated as she drunk the tilt of his mouth that she’d missed so much.

“Have you been swimming yet?” He asked. She nodded.

“I can do the underwater somersaults now, too,” she replied with an impish grin. He laughed and walked towards her and the door, nudging her out of his mother’s old bedroom.

“You should show me that,” he told her as she nodded.

Miller questioned the t-shirt she was wearing only ten minutes later, when she stripped it off to reveal her bikini. He was focusing more on the discarded t-shirt than on her breasts, which Clarke believed to be either incredible will power or a disinterest.

“Bellamy bought it for me,” she told him.

“How long ago?” Clarke winced in thought before shrugging.

“I was either nine or ten,” she decided, not completely sure anymore. Miller raised an eyebrow at his friend, who pulled off his t-shirt in one fluid motion. Clarke only looked at his bare torso and the wave of freckles down his left side for a moment before snapping her eyes away.

“You bought her a ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt?” Miller asked, amused. Bellamy shrugged.

“She was a kid,” he replied gruffly. “She got me that knight mug, as well.” Miller raised an eyebrow as Bellamy dived into the lake.

“You got him that?” He said lowly to Clarke while Bellamy was underwater. She nodded and he eyed her approvingly. “He doesn’t let anyone drink from that mug apart from himself.” Pride swelled in Clarke’s chest as she grinned and ran down the dock, cannonballing into the water. Miller came next, and Wick a minute later. Raven arrived soon after, and was happy to involve Miller in their underwater somersaulting competitions; teaching him the manoeuvre before showing Octavia.

 

**Day Four**

“So you’re just staying for a week, huh?” She asked Bellamy at the breakfast table, on the porch of his house. Bellamy nodded.

“I’ve got to get back – I can’t afford to stay away from work for any longer. But you’re cool with driving O back?” She smiled, nodding. Wick and she had bought the car together, deciding to not use her mother’s masses of money, but work for it themselves. He’d spent the entire year working as a low-paid engineer while applying for university and she’d worked as a waitress in a dive pub to scrounge up the money. Wick would also be accompanying her on the drive to Bellamy’s town.

“Of course,” she agreed. “I haven’t been to Ark in a while, anyway.”

“It’s not all that great,” he replied, not really looking at her.

“You’re there,” she evened. He shrugged.

“Exactly.”

 

**Day Five**

Clarke’s crush had annoyingly resurfaced, and she was aware of it on the walks through the woods and the way he jumped into the lake. But he was different now. He was older, and darker, and he wasn’t as amused by her antics. He still called her ‘Princess’ affectionately, but when their conversations went into dark territory (such as when they argued over what was going to happen to his holiday home), she heard the name laced with venom.

Clarke still ached to kiss him again, and wondered what it would be like – would the new Bellamy not fit right against her mouth and under her hands? She was better at kissing now, and she was sure he would be, too.

Miller sat down on the grass next to her, and they watched the sunset over the lake. The sun disappeared behind the far row of trees, casting a red glow on the clouds and an orange light on the water.

“Bellamy seems different, huh?” Miller said sadly. Clarke just nodded, staring at the shades of orange that she itched to paint. “He’s been acting differently since Aurora died.”

“I don’t blame him,” Clarke replied absently.

“Neither do I,” he sighed. “He’s had to grow up – he’s got sole custody of O, you know that?” Clarke nodded, because she did. He texted her about it and phoned her over it and she listened every day for months through the custody battles.

“Do you think he’s going to come back, next summer?” She asked, not wanting to look at his face and see the answer.

“No,” Miller responded quietly. “I don’t. I think he’s going to be responsible, sell the house and be able to pay for everything Octavia needs.” Clarke swallowed, because that was the most Bellamy-like thing to do, but the thing she wanted least in the world. “He’ll probably drive her back over here every year, as long as you’re still coming,” he added. “But he’s had to grow up, you know?” Clarke nodded slowly, taking in the glow behind the trees and the way the leaves darkened without the light.

“How long have you known him?” Clarke asked.

“Since we were little – Murphy stole my toy car on the first day of school, and Bellamy punched him in the face to get it back.” Clarke stifled a laugh.

“You’re friends with Murphy, too, right?” Clarke could see him in her peripheral, nodding.

“He never apologised for stealing the car, but he stood up for us in fights, and he hated everyone – so he didn’t care that I’m gay or black, or anything. It was all the same to him.” Clarke smiled once more, before looking over to Miller, still wearing his beanie and looking at her. She wondered if he knew how she felt, if he could feel it radiating off of her like a wave. Then she thought of Aurora’s words to her – the promise that she couldn’t make good on, not when she wasn’t around him.

“Look after him,” she told Miller, her voice low and full of emotions that she couldn’t let run riot. Miller studied her for a moment and she wondered what he saw – a sad girl without her best friend, or a blonde, hopelessly in love with someone she shouldn’t be? Either way, he nodded, and the two sat quietly until the sun was blotted out, and darkness streaked across the sky.

 

**Day Six**

“Do you want to play Monopoly, Miller?” Clarke asked from the sofa. Miller raised an eyebrow at her as Wick and Raven groaned. Bellamy stayed suspiciously quiet, drawing tiny circles on her leg from where it rested on his lap.

“Are you as uncanny at the game as Bell?” He asked in return. Clarke grinned; bared her teeth and felt the light in her eyes.

“Uncannier,” she told him, happily.

 

**Day Seven**

“Who are you texting?” Clarke asked, peeking over Bellamy’s shoulder from where he sat on the sofa. She saw lots of kisses on the other person’s end, alongside many heart emoticons.

“Echo,” Bellamy shrugged.

“Who’s Echo?”

“His girlfriend,” Octavia grinned, speaking in a sing-song manner. Clarke felt her heart drop for a moment.

“Your girlfriend’s name is _Echo_?” Clarke asked incredulously. Bellamy shrugged. “And you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend?”

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” he replied absently.

“No one who’s not your girlfriend would send you that many hearts,” Clarke retorted. Bellamy glanced up at her.

“I don’t date, Clarke,” he told her matter-of-factly. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Later, she and Miller swam in the water – he, for once, without his beanie.

“He doesn’t date?” She whispered to him, nodding over to Bellamy, walking down to the water with his sister. Miller shook his head.

“Not since he got custody. I think it’s all one night stands and casual sex,” Miller replied with a shrug. Clarke was about to reply, as she tried to make her peace with the thought of so many other women being in Bellamy’s life, but Miller kept speaking.  “So, I can feel the floor under the water – but is it _purely_ mud?” Miller pulled a face and Clarke laughed.

 

**Day Eight**

Miller tagged along with Clarke and the two Blakes to the museum, and nodded approvingly at the art work and artefacts. Bellamy and Clarke rattled off their knowledge like muscle memory – Bellamy more so, with his new-found knowledge from university - and she noticed Miller looking between the two of them multiple times.

At the end of the day, Bellamy sighed when Octavia wanted to buy a mug in the gift shop, and Clarke realised how strapped-for-cash they really must be. It was odd to her, for a moment, because they should have been well enough off to afford two houses, but apparently a lot was happening that she didn’t know about. Clarke happily bought Octavia’s mug for her, when Bellamy told her he couldn’t pay out money on that, and she ignored the glare he sent her for the rest of the day.

In the evening, she heard Miller say to him: “Bell, just let her help,” and the glares died down after that.

 

**Day Nine**

Wick told Miller about the boat crash as they were walking through town, but he was cut off when Octavia recognised a familiar face.

“Lincoln!” She called out, and went running over. Clarke grinned and watched as she hugged the virtual stranger, and wondered how many years it would be until his face was gone from the girl’s mind.

 

**Day Ten**

“So, what are you doing now?” Abby asked Bellamy over the dinner table.

“I’m working in a bar just about every night,” he replied with a shrug. “And I’m at uni during the day.” Abby nodded thoughtfully.

“Ark University, right?” He nodded in return. “Yes, I had an old friend who worked there as a professor – Marcus Kane?” Bellamy nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, he’s teaching my modern history course,” he told her.

“And you’re getting along okay?” Bellamy shrugged and dropped his eyes to his food.

“As well as we can be.”

 

**Day Eleven**

Clarke bought Octavia an ice cream and tried to ignore the glare she was receiving from Bellamy. Apparently Miller’s advice had been forgotten and she was no longer in his good graces. Never before had money been an issue – Bellamy had shrugged when Clarke bought things for him and Octavia and thanked her, instead of acting as if she had just stabbed him in the back.

Bellamy seemed to be content, staring daggers into her back and not voicing his opinion – but that wasn’t how it stayed. When Clarke happily bought Octavia a bracelet she had been eyeing, without a second thought, Bellamy approached her.

“I need to talk to you,” he hissed. Clarke nodded for Wick, Miller and Octavia to keep going, and she turned to her friend.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Clarke froze. “Are you just trying to show me up?”

“What?”

“Buying Octavia all that shit-“

“It was a _bracelet_.”

“I can provide for her, okay? I don’t need your charity-“

“It’s not charity-“

“It is so!”

“It’s me being her friend.” Bellamy scoffed. “Friends buy each other stuff! They do it and don’t think anything of it!”

“Clarke, we’re not a part of the social class you hold yourself at anymore – we never were.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we were middle class all our lives, while you lived in your little castle, as upper as it gets,” he explained, talking extra slow as if she were a child. “And now, we’re dirt poor – we’re not a part of your lifestyle anymore, Princess.” The nickname sounded like poison on his tongue. “I can’t just go and buy people stuff-“

“I’m not asking you to!”

“But you’re buying shit for us! That’s charity!”

“It’s not fucking charity!”

“Shut up, Clarke. It is. And I don’t want any of it. Just have fun in your castle and let me look after my sister.” She opened her mouth but he kept going. “ _My_ sister, _my_ responsibility. It’s _my_ job to look after her, so please just stop trying.” He turned away from her then, turned away to catch up with the others. She watched his fists clench and go loose, and his back tense.

“I guess I understand what you meant by you being the beast now,” Clarke commented, and she watched as his entire body froze before he forced his way forward.

 

**Day Twelve**

Bellamy left without so much as a hug. He said his goodbye to Octavia, and watched Wick and Clarke take their things onto his porch. Clarke hugged Miller and said her goodbyes to him, and her brother stared at her awkwardly as she and Bellamy glared at one another. For the first time, Clarke turned away as his car pulled away, and she didn’t even listen to the engine fade.

 

**Day Fifteen**

Clarke woke up in Bellamy’s bedroom and stared at the ceiling. Wick was sleeping in Aurora’s old room, and their parents had the Griffin-Wick household to themselves. Bellamy’s bedroom felt dark and claustrophobic, so she sat up and got dressed as quickly as possible, pushing the ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt further into her suitcase as she went. Like she had every day since she left, Clarke glanced at the few photos that were stuck to the wall; they were the ones that he had never bothered to take with him; photos of the lake and one of Wick in his cast and Clarke, a gash along her forehead, giving the camera a thumbs up.

She left the room as soon as she could.

 

**Day Twenty**

Octavia tugged Clarke in the direction of her room, a worried expression on her face. When they entered, she pointed at the spider, all small-bodied and spindely-legs on the wall. Clarke froze for a moment.

“Wick!” She called out.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded from downstairs.

“Can you come here please?” Wick disposed of the spider and Clarke sat in Octavia’s room, remembering her first summer and the day her parents were out, but Bellamy was around, and he caught the spider and set it free for her, telling her that spiders were just as important as humans and shouldn’t be squashed, like she had suggested. Clarke had never truly believed that spiders would live up to her on a moral, physical or mental scale, but she let Bellamy believe what he wanted to.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

Lincoln joined them at Octavia’s request in the lake. He was a strong swimmer and got along with all Raven, Clarke and Wick easily. He glanced at Clarke’s sketchbook, later, and they had a long conversation about art. He was a year below her, at sixteen, but he knew a lot and could hold a good conversation.

 

**Day Thirty Seven**

Clarke threw her suitcase into the boot of the car that she and Wick co-owned, pushing in Octavia’s afterwards. As Wick dealt with his own case, Clarke hugged Raven goodbye.

“Be safe, Griffin,” Raven grinned. “And look after Wick for me?” The two girls smiled at each other.

“He’ll be joining you soon enough,” Clarke replied, pulling away to make sure Octavia got in the car. Both Wick and Raven had been accepted during the summer to TonDC University – prestigious for its electronics and engineering courses. Clarke would miss Wick from the house, but she never said as much, guessing that he already knew. She hugged her mother and Jason goodbye next.

“Drive carefully,” Abby said.

“We don’t want to relive the boating incident,” Jason joked.

Clarke climbed into the front seat, passenger side, and glanced out the window as Wick and Raven kissed goodbye. Then, Wick was in the driver’s side and they were driving away, Clarke staring back at the houses until they turned a corner and they disappeared from sight.

The drive to Ark was five hours long. They switched over at the half way mark, and the driver got to choose the music, apart from the hour in the middle where Octavia’s songs were on full-blast and she could be heard, screeching along to the music in the back seat. Octavia was loud and happy throughout the journey, joking along and talking when the other two weren’t. She filled the silences that Clarke would have otherwise spent thinking about Bellamy, so she didn’t mind all that much.

While Octavia sung, in that middle hour, and Wick drove, knowing there was a place to pull off the motorway, only a few miles down the road, he glanced over to her.

“Have you spoken to him recently?” Wick asked lowly. Clarke shook her head with a sigh.

“I received a single text since he left,” Clarke replied. “And that was asking about Octavia until he figured out he could ask you instead.” Wick nodded grimly, switching lanes and passing a car on the right lane, before moving back into the centre one.

“You’ve got to make up with him,” Wick told her.

“You don’t think I know that?”

“Clarke,” her brother sighed. “You two care about each other, you’ve got to make it alright before we go home.” The plan was to spend a single night in Ark before returning home, fresh in the morning for the drive back to Polis, so Clarke knew she had a limited time.

Eventually, though, they made it, and Clarke pulled up outside what Octavia said to be their apartment complex. She glanced over at Wick, craning his neck to look at the address on the side of the building and comparing it to the one on his phone. At his nod, she turned off the ignition and sighed.

The three of them pulled their suitcases from the car, and Clarke locked it behind her as Octavia pressed on the buzzer for her apartment. The speaker crackled to life.

“Yeah?” Bellamy’s voice said, distorted over the microphone.

“Bell!” Octavia cried. “I’m home.” Immediately the door buzzed and Octavia pulled it open, leading the siblings up the stairs behind her. Bellamy was waiting by the open door on the third floor, grinning at his sister when she came into sight. They hugged tightly at first, before pulling away and Bellamy took her suitcase and brought it inside. He greeted Wick with a quick hug and Clarke with a weak smile and a nod before shutting the door behind them.

“Nice place,” Wick complimented, looking around the apartment. It was small, a little untidy, and very obvious as to who lived there, from the history books in the shelves to Octavia’s pencils and her shoes scattered across the floor. Bellamy nodded his head, leading them through.

“The sofa pulls out into a bed,” he told them. “So, either you can share the sofa bed, or I’ll share it with Wick, and Clarke can have mine?” Bellamy didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke, but looked in her general direction and she shrugged.

“Whatever’s good for you guys,” she replied vaguely, not wanting to impose on someone who she was in an argument with. Bellamy just shrugged and nodded at the same time, and gestured to a wall for them to dump their bags. Octavia, sensing some sort of awkwardness, called Wick over.

“I want to show you around my room,” she told him happily, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of her bedroom. She slammed the door shortly afterwards, and Clarke was left alone with Bellamy. They both coughed and cleared their throats, Clarke gingerly sitting at the end of the sofa and Bellamy, leaning against the kitchen door frame. She didn’t really know who was in the wrong, anymore. It could have been Bellamy; with his over-protectiveness, and how he wouldn’t let her help, let alone avoiding her and yelling in the middle of the street. But Clarke felt to blame, too; she hadn’t considered their financial situation once in the entire time she knew him, and she hadn’t made an effort to get him back, either – just called him a beast. That, Clarke thought, was her biggest mistake.

But they had to talk, sometime, so she gave in, deciding to be the first.

“So, you’re working at a bar?” She asked, Bellamy grunting affirmatively in response. “What’s that like?” He sighed, heavily landing on the sofa next to her, with only a couple of centimetres space in between the two.

“Long, hard – did you know drunk people vomit? _A lot_?” She cracked a smile at this, glancing at the ceiling.

“I could have guessed,” she replied lightly. Bellamy nodded.

“How was your summer?”

“Long,” she repeated back. “Hard – did you know Raven and Wick make out? _A lot_?” Bellamy almost laughed at that, and she glanced over to find him smiling. Then it faded and the two of them sat in silence for a few seconds. Clarke didn’t know what to say, but she guessed that apologising would be a good start.

“Bellamy?” She asked into the silence.

“Yeah, Clarke?”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. Bellamy’s eyebrows rose and he looked genuinely surprised that she was saying this. “I’m sorry that I called you the beast from _Beauty and The Beast_.” It was laughable, her apology, and the way that he exhaled a smile meant that he thought so, too.

“It was a low blow, Princess,” he smiled. She smiled back, hers full of relief, as he sat up.

“I’m sorry, too,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I get what you were doing was out of friendship, but it’s just really difficult to have that when it feels like charity.” Clarke opened her mouth to protest and he shook his head. “I know you say it’s not – but it feels like it, Clarke. I have _literally no money_. I don’t have enough to help Octavia through university, and I don’t have enough to get _myself_ through university. And, I mean, you have a boat.” Clarke laughed now.

“Had,” she corrected.

“Had,” Bellamy agreed. They nodded for a moment into the silence.

“Can we be friends again?” Clarke asked. “Because I’m really not liking us not talking.” Bellamy smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think so. I mean, I’m different to how I used to be – I had to grow up, Clarke. But, if you can deal with adult Bellamy, then I’m sure we can make it work.” The two smiled at each other before Bellamy opened his arms. She dove into them, breathing in his scent and clamping her eyes shut. She knew that she said holding Octavia, at the beginning of the summer, and being around the Blakes felt like home – but Clarke wanted to change that.

It wasn’t the prospect of the Blakes that made her feel safe and happy. It was purely down to Bellamy.

Later that night, she met his friends. Bellamy Blake’s best friends were Nathan Miller and John Murphy. Miller approached her with a smile and a hug; his beanie still on his head, and a joke about sinking ships already prepared, alongside a wink. John Murphy, formerly known as Murphy, was a different case. He wasn’t unattractive, but his face was hollow and sullen, as if he’d felt great pain and it all showed over his features. He appraised Clarke in his first glance and nodded approvingly, before Bellamy cuffed him upside the head.

“This is Murphy,” Bellamy introduced, slinging an arm across his friend’s shoulders.  “Murph, this is Wick and Clarke Griffin.” Bellamy pointed to them both in turn as Murphy raised an eyebrow.

“Wick Griffin, what sort of name is that?” He asked.

“Not mine,” Wick replied with a smirk. “It’s Kyle Wick – I’m a last namer, too.” Murphy nodded understandably, and moved the subject onto how drunk they were getting, and who had to be the designated driver (the former decided by a sigh from Bellamy and a pointed look towards his sister, and the latter by a coin toss between Murphy and Miller. Murphy lost.)

Clarke liked Bellamy’s friends, in the broadest sense. Bellamy was a little different around them, sure, more rowdy and he swore more often, drank more and generally felt like Bellamy, but Bellamy without the responsibility. He was almost like he was during the summers, just a little more drunk.

Half way through the night, when Octavia had gone to bed, Clarke sat down next to Murphy and eyed him carefully.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Murphy drawled back, nursing his Diet Coke and silently wishing for it to change into a beer. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You stole Miller’s toy car,” she informed him. Across the room, Miller laughed at her announcement. Murphy watched her for a moment; her eyes dead set and her jaw tense.

“Like, fifteen years ago, yeah,” Murphy replied, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“You should apologise,” she told him. Murphy almost laughed.

“And why’s that, Princess?” He asked. Bellamy lightly hit him on the head again as he passed, and Murphy sent him an offending look. “What was that for?”

“No one calls her ‘Princess’ but me,” her friend shrugged. Murphy rolled his eyes and turned back to Clarke.

“You should apologise because Miller was probably really offended and his life almost definitely changed due to that pivotal moment.” She took another swig of her beer after speaking, and watching Murphy laugh.

“I got punched for that – isn’t that punishment enough?”

“Apologising isn’t a punishment,” Clarke replied.

“Apologising is most definitely a punishment,” Murphy retorted. Clarke took another swig of her beer and narrowed her eyes at him, a little.

“I’ll tell you a secret about Bellamy if you apologise to Miller for stealing his toy car.” Across the room, Miller laughed again and Bellamy raised an eyebrow. Wick told him that she made deals like this a lot (far too many people knew Wick’s secrets over Clarke making deals with them). Murphy eyed her for a moment, probably calculating the secrets of Bellamy’s he did know, before making up his mind. He turned his head to Miller.

“I’m sorry for stealing your toy car when we were little,” he called across the room. “It was a dick move.” The other boys broke into laughter, and Clarke grinned. “Come on blondie,” Murphy told her with a smirk. “Secret time.” Clarke leaned in and whispered in his ear that Bellamy learnt how to swim when he was twelve, and Murphy looked at her incredulously.

“Are you serious?” He asked loudly. “Five year olds can do that!” Clarke broke into laughter and Bellamy narrowed his eyes mockingly at her from across the room.

“What the hell did she tell you?” He asked. Murphy shrugged casually.

“I don’t know, what’s the information worth?” He rubbed his first two fingers and thumb together as he smirked, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. It was seamless, the way they worked, and Clarke felt strangely comforted by the fact that she was joining in; that she fit in.

Bellamy sighed, looking up at the ceiling as he thought.

“I’ll cover your shift at the bar next weekend when you’re on your date?” He suggested, and Clarke glanced at Murphy, who nodded.

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “She told me that you didn’t learn how to swim until you were twelve.” Miller broke into laughter and Wick grinned. Bellamy just sighed, rolling his eyes at Clarke.

“It’s impressive that you knew I hadn’t told them that.”

 

**Day Thirty Eight**

Clarke woke up in Bellamy’s bed, and she noticed that the pillows smelt like the sea, just like him. When she made her way into the living room, she registered the new  smell of pancakes, and found Wick and Octavia on the sofa, eating them with sugar and watching morning cartoons. Clarke only smiled at Octavia’s body, curled into his.

In the kitchen, Bellamy served her pancakes, and she ate with him, as he told her that his friends liked her. She pulled on her ‘Princess Clarke’ t-shirt, and Wick made a comment about how he hadn’t seen her wear it, that summer. She shrugged and avoided Bellamy’s gaze, pulling her suitcase along behind her. She dumped it in the boot of the car and turned to her brother.

“Do you want to drive back?” She asked. He wrinkled up his nose.

“My head’s still pounding from last night.”

“How much did you drink?”

“A lot more after you went to bed.” Wick hugged Octavia and Bellamy goodbye, and Clarke followed behind him. She held Bellamy tightly and he kissed the top of her head. Clarke looked up at him for a moment.

“I’m an hour away,” she informed him. Bellamy grinned at her.

“I know,” he replied. “We’ll do something about that, this year.” Clarke drove back to Polis and within days, she and Wick were figuring out how to share a car when they were living so far apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say a MASSIVE THANK YOU to everyone who commented on the last chapter; you guys were really helpful, and came with lots of enthusiasm, motivation and ideas for this story, and I'm really grateful for that.  
> The current status of the next chapter is unfinished, because while you guys are amazing, I'm coming slow, putting it all together. I'm still a little stuck on ideas, and definite routes this story is going to take, so if anyone has any more, I would happily take them.  
> As for the chapter you've just read, I didn't proof read it before putting it up - I believe I edited it a couple of days ago, and I know the general gist of what I've posted, but I don't remember it fully. So, do tell me what you think of it, and where you think the characters might go from there - every comment is a good comment, and I read and appreciate all of them, so much, no matter what they say.
> 
> Thank you.


	10. Summer Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for the support of this story, especially as you all know how much trouble I'm having in finishing it. As a warning, I go back to college (sixth form) on the fourth, meaning that if the story isn't finished by then, or I haven't written far enough ahead, the updates are likely to become irregular. I haven't got my timetable yet, and I don't know what day I'm going to have off (hopefully), but when I find out, I'll schedule my updating around that.
> 
> In conclusion, updating is unlikely to be daily after the fourth, but I will still try my best. Thank you for reading, please try to enjoy this unedited chapter of pure crap.

**Day One**

Clarke pulled up at Bellamy’s apartment complex in Ark, tapping on the steering wheel as she waited. In the passenger seat, Wick texted that they’d arrived, as Clarke tipped her head back on the head rest.

“You know,” Wick told her mildly, locking his phone. “You should really try and make your crush on Bellamy less obvious.” His sister rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Not hard enough, apparently,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, here you are, madly in love with your childhood best friend, barely seeing him throughout the year but getting a single week in the summer to stare at him obsessively – and it’s still obvious. You’ve had a year, Clarke, shouldn’t you be able to hide it or something?” She could hear the smile in his voice and the joking tone, but she just sighed again, anyway.

“I would think that the better question would be _why can’t I just move on?_ ” He snorted.

“That’s not the better question. You two are practically made for each other – there’s no reason for you to move on. So, date him, or set him metaphorically free from your heart.” She glanced over to see him grinning and turned away again.

“You know, I’m keeping the car next year.”

“Are not,” he retorted.

“Why don’t you just build your own?”

“Why don’t you just buy your own?” They glared at each other, half-heartedly, for a moment before looking away.

“We’re literally going to be one town away from each other,” she reminded him. Wick nodded. “And this year’s train wreck of a plan can be fixed, then.” Clarke was finally getting to leave Polis for university, and while she had signed up for Ark, she’d also gone for TonDC’s second campus, in Newk, one town away from her brother. So, while they were arguing for the year beforehand over who could have the car and when, the next year, if she was accepted, she could spend only fifteen minutes away, and in walking distance of the car, anyway. Just then, the back door opened.

“Morning!” Octavia called cheerily through the open door. The boot opened, too, and Clarke watched in the review mirror as Bellamy slid her suitcase in with theirs. He shut the boot door, and the side one that Octavia had entered through, after pressing a kiss to her head, and stepped into view of the passenger side window. Wick rolled it down with a smile.

“Mr Blake,” he greeted. “Are you sure you won’t be joining us on our fabulous summer getaway.” Bellamy grinned as he shook his head.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I’ll be up in a couple of weeks, but I can’t afford to miss work.” Clarke smiled sadly.

“We’ll be waiting,” she told him.

“You better be,” he grinned back. “Look after her, okay?” The siblings nodded, and Bellamy looked back at his sister, through the open window. “Be good – don’t let them get you drunk or anything, all right?”

“No promises!” Octavia called back with a smile. Only minutes later, the three of them were on the road, to a parent-free summer, now that Abby and Jason saw them as old enough to be on their own while they took an extended cruise. Clarke glanced back at Octavia in the review mirror, and watched as she turned around, staring through the back window at her brother, standing on the street and watching.

 

**Day Four**

“Do you have the key to my house?” Octavia asked Clarke, who was attempting to make dinner (A.K.A. pizza for the third day in a row). She nodded in response, absently fishing around the cabinet and pulling out the keys. Octavia took them from her hand and ran off, and Clarke could hear the back door slam, as she bent down to see if the oven was lit.

 

**Day Six**

“I invited Lincoln over, to swim,” Octavia informed the siblings, as they lazed around on the sofa. Clarke quirked an eyebrow, but Wick acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Octavia was thirteen and, as Clarke was learning, a force to be reckoned with.

“No underage sex,” was all Wick said on the matter, and Clarke thought it best to leave it at that.

 

**Day Eight**

“Are you two going to be living together next year?” Clarke was setting up the Monopoly board, as the heavens poured rain across the town, and glanced up at her brother and his girlfriend as she went. Wick and Raven had been dating for a year, since the summer before when his three-year plan succeeded and he persuaded her into going on a date with him. Since then, they’d both been at TonDC University, only a block away from one another. Raven wrinkled up her nose for a second, and Wick just counted money absently.

“I don’t know,” Raven eventually replied, and Clarke noticed the two of them sending each other curious glances, trying to create their answers based on the other.

“It would _logically_ make sense,” Wick told the girls. “Because we’re always at each other’s places, and we’re going to the exact same lab for the same classes-“

“Plus money,” Raven continued, picking up the car and putting it on the _Go!_ space. “I mean, it would be cheaper to live together, and not have to pay separate rents and stuff-“

“And we have been dating for a year,” Wick added, slowly with a shrug. Clarke raised her eyebrows at the two of them.

“I don’t want to go fast and all,” Raven countered, equally as slowly. “But there would be _practical_ reasons we should live together.”

“Geez,” Clarke mumbled. “Just live together already.”

 

**Day Twelve**

“What was your dad like?” Octavia asked quietly, as the two girls lied back on the dock. Clarke stared at the sky and didn’t answer immediately, trying to figure out a reply. Octavia had been six, the summer she returned and Jake was dead, meaning the younger girl didn’t remember Clarke’s father particularly well.

“He was happy,” she said slowly. “I don’t really remember a day when he wasn’t – it was like it was impossible for him to be anything but content. But, in the best way, you know? Not in the way where he’s not feeling emotions, because he was – he felt it all, and pushed through it anyway.” Clarke swallowed for a moment, staring at the clouds. “He made up myths for everything,” she continued. “Like, why the tide exists, or why the sky and the sea are the same colour. He told me that crows feet – the lines at the corners of people’s eyes – those were made by fairies; a blessing to those who were truly happy.”

In her peripheral, she noticed Octavia look over. But Clarke didn’t want to stop now, she rarely had time to speak of Jake Griffin, anymore. Her mother was remarried, and didn’t want to hear it as much, and Wick never knew him. Bellamy was great for listening over the phone, but when they managed to see each other, once or twice a month, it wasn’t the sort of conversation they could spend precious time having.

“He saw Bellamy as a son, too,” she continued. “It was like he wanted to adopt everyone; wanted to make sure everyone had a father figure in their lives, that they were all eating enough and getting the right amount of sleep. He was an environmental engineer – Wick would have loved him. He wanted to change the world and save it, all at once. I got along with him much better than I did with Mum – because he was always there, while she was constantly at work.”

“Bellamy said that Abby was always at work because she was saving up her time,” Octavia told her. Clarke nodded the best she could in her position.

“Yeah – she would take all of the long shifts, and then manage to get the _entire_ summer off. No one could manage that, really – especially not have a functioning family on top of it – but she could.” They were silent for a minute or so, and Clarke’s gaze drifted over the light and dark of the clouds above her.

“I don’t remember my dad,” Octavia told her quietly. “It never really bothered me, because I had Bellamy, but when I was little, I would go into school and see all these dads, dropping their kids off, and I would wonder why I didn’t have one.” She sniffed and Clarke glanced over, seeing Octavia’s eyes planted firmly on the sky. “I was about seven when Bellamy told me that he walked out, before I was born. Before then, he’d just told me that I didn’t need a dad, that mum was enough for both parenting roles. But he walked out all the same, because he could handle having one kid, but not two.”

Clarke reached out her hand and grabbed Octavia’s, squeezing it tightly. She felt Octavia’s grip on her own; the way she trembled but wouldn’t let it show.

“Bell’s dad walked out as well,” Octavia added. “Two walk outs and a dead mother.” She laughed, bitterly. “What am I like, huh?”

 

**Day Thirteen**

Clarke glanced out the window as Lincoln and Octavia jumped into the lake together. She knew that the younger girl had a crush on the guy, but she could also tell that he had already let her down gently, telling her that it was inappropriate and that they weren’t meant to be together like that. Also, he’d told her as much when she was watching the two of them suspiciously.

Even so, Octavia had taken it very well, and announced that she still wanted him in her life – whether it was a friend or more than that. Clarke felt something strange in the pit of her stomach over a thirteen year old being more emotionally mature than she was.

 

**Day Fifteen**

Bellamy’s car pulled up into his driveway and Clarke bounded down the porch steps, running across the grass to meet him. He’d brought both Miller and Murphy with him, this year, insisting that they should come to the lake house. He claimed it was just for the company in the car, but Clarke knew it was more to do with his best friends all being together in one spot.

The moment he was out of the truck, she pounced on him, into a hug. He laughed, holding her tightly and swaying backwards as they went. Octavia was next, and Clarke moved around the car to quickly hug Miller and Murphy.

“Has the past month been terrible without us?” Miller asked with a smile. Clarke shrugged, smiling back.

“I can’t say I’ve _liked_ it.”

“Course not, Blondie,” Murphy told her, draping an arm across her shoulders. Clarke remembered that since the first time he called her ‘Princess’, and Bellamy told him off for it, he hadn’t said it once, adopting ‘Blondie’ instead of her name, instead. “We’re very much the lights of your life.” She snorted in her laugh as Wick and Raven left her house, and came to meet the boys. Raven had met Miller the year before, but Murphy was completely new to her. The two sized each other up first, with half-hearted glares and cold looks. Raven spoke first.

“He looks like a dick,” she announced.

“I am a dick,” he informed her. Raven nodded slowly.

“Me, too,” she replied. “I bet I’m more of a dick than you.” Murphy snorted.

“Not likely.” The others watched the encounter, their faces plastered with smirks as the two eyed each other carefully. Then, Raven turned suddenly, her ponytail swinging around as she went, and sauntered off, back into the house. Murphy raised an eyebrow and waited until the door shut for him to look at everyone else.

“Be honest,” he told them. “Who’s the bigger dick?” The others paused.

“That’s a difficult question,” Bellamy thought aloud. Clarke nodded in agreement.

“You’re two different types of dick,” she continued.

“Raven’s a powerful type of dick,” Wick explained. “She’s dominant, with comebacks and can cuss you out in like three languages.”

“And she meddles a lot,” Clarke finished.

“But you,” Miller sighed.

“You’re just an asshole,” Bellamy told him. Murphy nodded, shouldering his duffle bag.

“Just the way I like it, then.”

That night, they were all in the lake. All of them swam and laughed; watching as Murphy tried, and failed, to complete underwater somersaults, and Miller disappeared underwater, with the uncanny ability to hold his breath for almost two minutes. Clarke couldn’t help but notice that it was beautiful; the way the light from the houses dappled on the otherwise murky black lake; the laughter rising in the air; the memory that would be forever implanted in her mind. These were her people – sure, she had her friends at home, but these were _hers_ , chosen specially and the perfect balance of conflict and harmony, and terrible jokes she’d rather forget.

 

**Day Sixteen**

“Nice town,” Murphy said dryly, glancing out the window of Bellamy’s living room. “So lively, and awake and, _sunny_.” It was currently tipping it down with rain, apparently quite common to the town, and Murphy was under the impression that the weather would be better.

“Don’t worry,” Miller sighed from the sofa. “It’ll clear up. Rain doesn’t last forever.”

“Tell that to Noah,” Murphy retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a biblical man,” Wick commented, from where he was splayed out across an armchair. Murphy shrugged.

“I’m not, I went to Sunday school as a kid though.”

“He was kicked out for willingly hosting a demon in his body,” Bellamy continued as he passed Miller his tea. Murphy grinned ruefully but didn’t deny it, and Clarke raised her eyebrows from where she sat on the floor, her head pressed against Octavia’s knees, on the sofa.

“Noah was the one with the Ark, right?” Octavia asked, carding her fingers through Clarke’s hair. She really liked playing with it, apparently, and Clarke didn’t mind at all, liking the feeling of it. Murphy nodded as he sat down, his back pressed against the cold radiator under the window.

“Forty days of the flood, two of each type of animal, the terrible film adaptation with Russell Crowe – yeah, all of that,” he agreed. Wick raised an eyebrow.

“Was Emma Watson in that one?” Murphy nodded again.

“She gave birth,” he explained.

“On screen?”

“Off screen, but you could totally hear her screaming.” Octavia plaited Clarke’s hair gently, and Clarke let out a sigh.

“We could play Monopoly,” she suggested, staring at the floor. A couple of people groaned, and Murphy, the only one whose face she could actually see, rolled his eyes.

“I hear you’re the master of it,” he commented.

“She’s a _cheater_ ,” Wick corrected.

“How dare you,” Clarke retorted with a glare. “I have never cheated at Monopoly in my life!” Bellamy snorted into his drink from where he was leaning against the wall.

“See? Even Bellamy knows you’re a cheater, and he’s practically in love with you,” Wick told her. Clarke went silent, biting the inside of her cheek, and Bellamy didn’t say anything either. But she couldn’t see his expression, just Murphy’s and the way he nodded.

“But that’s only because he’s a cheater, too,” he explained. “I bet she taught him her cheating ways.”

“You defiled our best friend,” Miller told her with a laugh. Clarke rolled her eyes but didn’t say a thing, wondering why Bellamy wasn’t, either.

 

**Day Seventeen**

“See?” Miller looked at Murphy. “Sunshine.” Murphy wrinkled up his nose as he looked at the clear sky, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“Gross, I think I preferred the rain.” Bellamy snorted, draping an arm across Clarke’s shoulders, and Clarke, trying not to let her satisfaction with it show. She slowed her pace a little, and found him doing the same, until they were behind the rest of the group and following them through the high street, shop windows on all sides and Octavia looking in every one, before pulling one of the other three boys to look with her.

Clarke liked how they were all wrapped around her little finger; knowing her since she was little and not stopping seeing her as such. Even Murphy, ‘grade A asshole’, was happy to follow her lead, letting her tug him along into shops and grinning at her antics.

“She’s practically their little sister,” Bellamy told her, as if he were reading her thoughts. Clarke nodded.

“She’s lucky to have so many brothers,” was all she said in reply. Bellamy just smiled, pulling her closer to his body, and she thought about how any stranger would think they were a couple. Anyone could look at them and see two people dating, or in love, and not know that they were best friends. But, Clarke was eighteen, and she’d abandoned the idea of pushing her feelings for Bellamy away – if the world wanted to believe they were in love, she’d happily play along. Hell, she’d probably scream it from the rooftops, whether she was asked to or not.

She completely understood that he didn’t feel that way in return, but it was about having him in her life, and getting to watch the way he grinned, or scratched the back of his neck, or ran his hand through his hair. She didn’t even care anymore about unreciprocated feelings, because hers were there, and very, very real. She thought it a bigger disrespect to ignore her own, than to have them and not put them in use.

“When are you getting your grades?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“A week or so,” she sighed in response.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Clarke shrugged, not even glancing up at him.

“Probably TonDC,” she replied, they have the best art program.

“Did you apply for Ark?” She nodded with a smile.

“I did, and I would like to go there, but TonDC’s program is better. All depends on the grades.” Bellamy nodded his head, next to her. “We’ll still see each other, though,” she promised him.

“I know,” he smiled. “I just can’t believe you’re not the nine year old girl I met, anymore.” Clarke snorted with a laugh

“You’re one to talk,” she told him, grinning. “You’re nothing like that little twelve year old I used to know.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” He was grinning too, and the sight of his smile made her heart lift.

“For one, that kid, on the first day I ever met him, opened the door and then remembered his manners, inviting us in,” she told him. “At least you had manners back then.” Bellamy furrowed his brow, still smiling.

“I did?” He asked. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Well, what was your first memory of me, then?” He glanced up at the sky, not a cloud in sight, and looked to his sister, gripping Wick’s hand as she dragged him towards the sweet shop.

“God,” he murmured. “I don’t know. The swimming thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, and Clarke watched him carefully. “It could have been when you were out the back with your dad, trying to persuade him to come into the lake, and you were saying ‘pretty please’, and listing an obscure amount of ice cream toppings.” Clarke laughed, and Bellamy smiled down at her, and she wondered why the look in his eye was different to the way she knew it to be.

“Bellamy!” A voice called out, and Clarke was pulled from her thoughts as the two looked towards the owner. Murphy was leaning against the door frame of the sweet shop, arms crossed, glancing inside. “Your sister is trying to buy the place, come on!”

Bellamy made a sound that was like a sigh, but he was smiling all the same, and didn’t move his arm from Clarke’s shoulders. Together, they walked past Murphy and into the shop where Octavia was discussing with Wick and Miller her problem of deciding between all the different types.

“There’s just so many,” she complained. “How is someone supposed to choose just one?” Bellamy smiled, tilting his head a little.

“O, choose your favourite – the one you can’t bear to live without.” Octavia looked over the food again.

“They’re all equally my favourite,” she announced. “I must have them all!” Her brother rolled his eyes with a sigh, but still not moving away from Clarke. She didn’t know what that meant, or if he was just not bothered enough to go over to his sister, but she relished in the moments that continued.

“Okay,” he said slowly, going for a different tactic. “Who is your favourite out of the guys?” Octavia raised her eyebrows, and the three boys looked between each other, waiting for her answer.

“Wick gives me piggy back rides,” she decided. “Even though I’m too big for them now.” Clarke’s brother laughed out loud and Miller raised an eyebrow.

“Figures,” he muttered as Wick draped his arm across Octavia’s shoulders.

“Plus, I don’t get to see him as much, so he’s nicer to me when he’s around.” Bellamy nodded.

“Okay, Wick, what’s your favourite of the sweets Octavia can’t choose from?” Octavia furrowed her brow as Wick looked at the selection in front of him.

“The bon bons, definitely,” he announced, and looked back to Bellamy.

“All right,” he said. “Octavia, choose the bon bons – they’re your favourite’s favourite; ergo, your favourite. Buy them and let’s go.” Clarke smiled up at him, and she didn’t miss the raised eyebrows and approving looks of the others in the room. Octavia nodded, as if this was satisfactory knowledge for her to have, and glanced back at Wick.

“There are so many flavours,” she complained, and Wick laughed as the others groaned, pulling her in for a hug.

 

**Day Eighteen**

Clarke wandered along the trail in the woods by herself, trying to find the tree that Finn had shown her, so many summers ago. She wanted to climb it and look out across the valley again; taking in the ridge of the hills and the blue of the lake. She couldn’t remember exactly where it was, just that it was along the path, somewhere.

So she wander along until she found a familiar looking tree; large at the base and splaying off in clumps of branches, strong enough to hold her waited and nodded. This was it.

As she climbed, she remembered the look on Octavia’s face, when she saw the view; the awe and amazement that she was sure was on her face, the first time she saw it, too. She’d only been up there a couple of times, but her feet hit the right groves like muscle memory, and the handholds were easier than she expected, to find.

When Clarke stood on the top branch, overlooking the town, she sighed with relief. It was all still there; the trees, the green, the lake. Her house could still be spotted, figures running down the hill towards the water in unison, and jumping in at the last moment. She guessed they were Miller and Murphy, and so much of her was happy that they had come – she’d gotten to know them on her visits over the past year, and found that they were the exact type of people she could see herself being happy with. Like she thought only a couple days before, they were _her_ people.

As Clarke’s eyes scanned the surface of the water, looking at the boats that roared through it, creating waves and, she was sure, a lot of noise, sounds came from the trail below. Clarke wasn’t particularly surprised at the sounds; people walked along the path every day with their dogs or bikes – she was surprised to find she recognised the voices.

As silently as she could, she climbed down, so the mumbles were no long muffled, but clear enough for her to listen to. They were a little way off, down the path, but walking in her direction, and Clarke could hear the familiar lilt of her brother’s voice.

“…Happens if you aren’t in the same place?” He was asking.

“I don’t know,” came the response. Clarke recognised the deep tone and knew that Bellamy was walking along, too. “We’ll stay in touch, like always.”

“It’s not the same,” Wick pointed out. “You know, she counts down the days before she gets to see you again.” There was a chuckle, half-hearted but so clearly Bellamy’s. Clarke swallowed, knowing they were speaking of her. Absently, she pulled her dangling leg up onto the branch, completely out of sight.

“You don’t think I do the same?” Bellamy mused aloud after a pause. “But TonDC is the best place for her.”

“That’s a three year course,” Wick replied. “You’d only see her in the summer.”

“We’ve survived ten years, I’m sure we could survive a few more,” he sighed in response. Clarke peeked through the leaves, seeing them wandering slowly, not bothering to pick up their pace, and Bellamy scuffing the toe of his shoe on the ground, every couple of steps. Wick sighed loudly, and there was silence that followed. Clarke considered showing herself, jumping down from the tree and announcing her presence, but just like she did years before, when they were speaking of Finn and she was hiding behind a wall, she stayed there, silently.

“Bell,” Wick sighed eventually. “She’s my sister, I care about her, you know? And I know it’s a weird thing for brothers to do – to even try and persuade you to think about it-“

“I wouldn’t do the same thing for Octavia,” Bellamy laughed.

“You would though,” Wick replied. “You would if it was what’s best for her.”

“ _I’m_ not what’s best for her, man,” Bellamy replied, and Clarke scooted further back into the tree as they passed, right below the branch she was sitting on.

“But you are,” Wick insisted. “There is no one else-“

“She’s eighteen,” Bellamy reminded him. “She’s about to go to university – meet all the people she’ll be spending her life with. You don’t know there won’t be anyone else.”

“I do if you’d just tell her,” Wick mumbled in response. Clarke watched, wide eyed as their backs were the only thing she could see.

“Let her live her life,” Bellamy told him. “Let me live mine – and if it’s right, it’ll happen.” Wick sighed again, and Clarke bit her tongue to stop herself from climbing down from the tree and telling them she heard it all.

“You really believe that?” Wick asked at last, as their voices were growing softer.

“I really do,” Bellamy sighed.

Clarke waited in the new found silence until they were out of sight, still talking and walking along. She revelled in her knowledge; the way that Wick was trying to set them up for her, and the way Bellamy was saying no. But Clarke understood, she did. Bellamy liked her, but he wanted her to grow up first.

At least, that’s what she decided as she climbed down the tree and walked off in the direction the boys had come from.

 

**Day Nineteen**

He wanted mature – Bellamy wanted Clarke to be older and wiser and to have met people. Sadly, all of the plans she concocted to make that go faster seemed too much like a kids show – she was going to dress nicer, and cook dinners that weren’t primarily pizza. She had considered not getting drunk with Murphy when he brought home alcohol, and focusing on her studies. But, that wasn’t going to make Bellamy like her.

Because he already did.

Clarke revelled in that fact; he liked her. Bellamy Blake liked Clarke Griffin and it was only a matter of time before they’d be together.

Only, the time was going to be a while, according to him, because he wanted her to be mature, and grow up, and meet people. Which brought Clarke back to her starting point, and took her back around the loop of idiotic plans and shooting them all down.

Instead, when she grew tired of thinking over it, and it was four in the afternoon, Murphy returned home with three six-packs and a few bottles of Malibu, claiming he hadn’t gotten drunk in at least a week, and that needed to be changed, she sat on the grass with him and drank until she couldn’t sit up by herself.

 

**Day Twenty**

Clarke woke up in an unfamiliar bed. There was a bad smell and a tingling feeling in her head that intensified when she tried to open her eyes. Clarke groaned, placing a hand over the pain in her skull, as if it would keep it at bay. She tried sitting up; propping herself up with an arm, but finding it to be like jelly; and fell back onto the pillow again. Next to her was a body, one that she hoped was alive. When she nudged it, the body groaned and Clarke took that as a good sign.

As her eyes became accustomed to the bright light, filtering in through the window, she noticed the dark blue walls and the simple furniture. There were a couple photos on the walls that she recognised, but nothing much else. It took Clarke longer than she expected to pull all the information together in her head, but when she did, her eyes widened a little bit more. Clarke was in Bellamy’s bedroom. Clarke had gotten drunk and awoken in her best friend’s bedroom, with an unidentifiable body, splayed across the mattress, their legs intertwined with hers, but his torso and head angled too far away to distinguish.

She wasn’t sure what all of this meant, so she grappled for her phone, finding it in the pockets of her shorts that she was still wearing, under the covers. As she went, she discovered her t-shirt had been taken off, leaving her just in her bra, and as she fought with the sheets to fit her hand into her pocket, she noticed the offending item of clothing on the floor, just a metre or two away.

The time on her phone read long after eleven, and the glass of water and pack of pills of the bedside table, she noticed when she slid her phone along the surface, meant that someone had been in.

With difficulty, she sat up, resting back on the headboard with a sigh. Then she looked to the body next to her; shirtless with tousled hair. Immediately, she knew it wasn’t Bellamy, which stirred mixed emotions in her stomach. The skin was too pale and the hair was too light; a muddy brown, straight, not curly. Clarke automatically guessed that it was Murphy, and she felt disappointed as well as relieved. She wondered what that meant for her – that Bellamy hadn’t been the one to fall into bed with her – but she pushed the thought away. They were both still half dressed, and nothing much would have happened, anyway.

So, Clarke sipped at the water, and swallowed down a couple of tablets before shaking her friend awake, who groaned just like she did, but when sitting up, accepted the glass of water all the same.

“How much do you remember?” Clarke asked as Murphy chucked the pills to the back of his throat and swallowed them dry, only following after with the water. He shrugged.

“Up until you started telling me your life’s story,” he replied groggily. “Because that shit was boring.” Clarke couldn’t be bothered to crack a smile and just nodded. “You?”

“I didn’t even know I told you my life’s story,” she told him, rubbing her head again. “I think I remember when you told me about your hatred of the sun.” He furrowed his brow and looked at her.

“I hate the sun?” He asked. She shrugged.

“Apparently it’s too bright, it’s too big, and it’s most definitely going to destroy the planet someday, so you hate it on principle.” He nodded appreciatively.

“Good reasons to hate the sun, if you ask me.” The two slowly got out of bed, Clarke pulling her t-shirt back on and Murphy just holding his loosely, as if he didn’t have the energy to lift it over his head. They wandered downstairs, where they received a too-loud round of applause from their friends. Octavia giggled on the armchair, and Wick winked at her over-exaggeratingly. Miller raised an eyebrow and Raven laughed loudly as the two winced and covered their ears.

“I hate you all,” Murphy murmured, turning to the kitchen. Bellamy thumped him on the head as he passed, and only received the middle finger in return.

“What was that for?” Clarke asked, shuffling after Murphy.

“He called you ‘Princess’ so many times last night,” was all Bellamy said, as he shrugged with a smile. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, though, and Clarke couldn’t tell what her friend was feeling, so she nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand, before going to the kitchen in hopes of receiving some food.

“Did you guys do it?” Raven asked when she was back on the sofa, huddled next to her brother with a mug of coffee in her hand. She hated coffee, truly, but Murphy had made her some and put something in it that he swore fixed all hangovers, so she thought it was worth a try. Besides, she was cold.

“I don’t _think_ so,” Clarke replied, trying to remember.

“I woke up with my jeans on, so I think it would’ve been pretty crap if we did,” Murphy retorted with a shrug. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the radiator and his drink in his hand. The others laughed and Clarke rested her head on Wick’ shoulder.

“My head hurts,” she sighed. Wick nodded, knowingly.

“Serves you right,” he told her. “You shouldn’t have drank all the Malibu before we got home.”

“We came and saw you guys drinking and thought, _hey, yeah, that would be fun_ ,” Miller continued. “But you had literally downed everything already.” She smiled weakly, remembering the way Murphy laughed when she necked the bottle.

“So you deserve a hangover,” Raven agreed. Clarke shrugged.

“Worth it,” was all she told them.

Clarke spared one too many glances for Bellamy, who smiled and laughed along with everyone else, but didn’t seem to be enjoying the moment as much. She first off wondered if it was jealousy, but her head was hurting too much to finish the thought.

 

**Day Twenty One**

Clarke hugged Murphy first when they went to the truck. She and him had officially sat down and tried to remember the details of their drunken moment, and come to the inclusion that they definitely kissed, and definitely gotten into bed with each other with the aim of having sex, but hadn’t managed to follow through with it. Neither were complaining that the plan had failed, to be honest. Murphy could go back with the title of making out with Bellamy’s best female friend (which apparently could get him a free drink at the Grounders bar they often visited, manned by a friend of theirs), and Clarke could be peaceful in the knowledge that they plainly hadn’t fucked.

She grinned at him when she pulled away, and he smiled back. Murphy smiling was like a ray of sunshine, she’d decided. He didn’t look like the boy she had first seen, with a sullen face and sunken eyes; carrying sadness on his features. He looked genuinely happy, and Clarke didn’t mind that he was the one she’d gotten drunk with at all.

She gave a quick hug to Miller, before pulling Bellamy in for a tight one. They embraced like they always did when they were separating; long and close, as if they never wanted to let go. Bellamy kissed the top of her head and she smiled up at him.

“You didn’t mind, right?” She asked, looking up. Bellamy furrowed his brow with a frown.

“Mind what?”

“That me and Murphy kissed when we were drunk?” He raised an eyebrow, and Clarke considered telling him that she’d heard what he said in the woods. He took a moment before shaking his head.

“I don’t mind at all, Clarke – as long as you agree that I’m a better kisser than him.” Bellamy grinned at her as she laughed, happy to see that he was okay, that he was able to joke around and laugh with her (God knows he wouldn’t have done the same, the year beforehand).

“I don’t _actually_ remember kissing Murphy, but I’ll agree,” she replied with a smile. He shrugged.

“I’ll take it.”

As he drove off, Clarke wondered if he minded, but lied to her. She wondered if he was jealous when he found out, but decided to hide it. She knew that he liked her – at least, semi-liked her – but he didn’t know that she knew. Clarke wondered if he would have said something different, if she’d announced her presence in the woods that day.

 

**Day Twenty Five**

Clarke sat with her phone pressed to her ear, her brother and his girlfriend sitting nearby, and Octavia, on the floor with wide eyes.

“Congrats, Clarke,” her teacher said down the phone, as Clarke stared at a patch of carpet, her face as blank as it could get. “Do you know what university you’ll be accepting?”

“Not a clue,” she murmured back.

“Well,” her teacher sighed. “Good luck, and remember to accept at least one of them. You’ve definitely earned it.” Clarke hung up the phone and stared at the carpet for a moment or two longer.

“Well?” Wick asked from beside her. When had he gotten that close? She dragged her eyes to him, and Raven waiting expectantly behind him. Octavia clutched at her hand, from where she sat at her feet – when did Octavia move to right in front of her? Clarke swallowed a couple of times with a sigh, and then smiled.

“I got in,” he told her brother, leaning her head on his shoulder as he grinned.

“To Ark?” Octavia asked. “Or TonDC?”

“Both,” Clarke replied. She had been accepted to both.

 

**Day Twenty Nine**

Clarke stared at the ceiling, still not sure which university she was going to accept. Of course, there was the obvious answer of TonDC – for the better of the two programs. But, then again, Bellamy, Octavia, Miller and Murphy were all in Ark. Ark was only a couple of hours from home, while TonDC was a very long drive. She wouldn’t see Bellamy throughout the year, she wouldn’t see Polis, either. Clarke swallowed and sighed, she’d phoned everyone she could think of, to discuss the grades and her future.

If she were to tally up which schools everyone thought she should go to, there would be an obvious answer – but Clarke didn’t want to make their decision. She wanted to make her own.

 

**Day Thirty**

“I phoned up TonDC,” she announced, walking into the kitchen. Wick and Octavia were at the breakfast table, spooning cereal into their mouths. But they stopped when she spoke.

“What did you say?” Wick asked, wide eyed.

“I accepted.”

 

**Day Thirty Nine**

Wick pulled up outside Bellamy’s apartment complex, and Clarke got out of the car. She pulled Octavia’s suitcase from the boot, and handed it over as the younger girl buzzed up. Bellamy said he’d meet them out front, and she waited after hugging Octavia goodbye. When Bellamy opened the door, Wick and Octavia were embracing tightly.

She held Bellamy for a moment, resting her head on his chest.

“Make sure you swing back around here on your way home for Christmas,” he told her, and she nodded with a smile. “We’ll make up for the time we’ll miss, then.”

"Absolutely," she agreed, pulling away.

"Oh, and Clarke?" He continued as she turned away. Clarke looked back curiously. "I figured it out - my first memory of you was you hiding behind Jake's leg when I opened the front door." They cracked a smile, each, before Clarke got back in the car, and drove off back to Polis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you feel the crap?  
> I actually enjoyed the Murphy scenes, and I quite liked writing them, but I feel like I'm taking the focus too far from Bellamy, right now. Also, you guys keep suggesting I add in Bellamy POVs, but it's probably not going to happen, because I like POV changes that are more equal, and not one that happens ten chapters in for no reason. So, unless it's a last-chapter-dealio, I'm probably going to continue with Clarke, and just try and turn her attention more onto his life.  
> I felt like I uncovered a lot of feelings in this chapter, and I decided officially who actually like who, so I'm a little ready there. The next chapter isn't even started yet, and I have no clear plans - just a small amount of hope.  
> Wish me luck, and if you still have any thoughts or ideas, I'd love to read them. Thank you.


	11. Summer Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violently un-beta-ed. More of a filler chapter and I'm not even sure where the plot's going anymore. Maybe somewhere, maybe no where. I haven't decided. This could just end here, and I could put up the completed sign, and you guys would be left, confused and wondering, for all eternity. Or, this could span every summer until Bellamy dies (I tend to imagine that he dies first in all universes, because Bellamy mourning is heart-breaking, and I don't like to think about that).
> 
> Anyway, I have no idea what's happening. I shall write when I write, and figure out a plot line when it actually comes to me.
> 
> Also, I see this chapter as just a selection of moments, with no real plot line involved. It's just a summer where nothing much really happens, and they just live life.

**Day One**

As Clarke drove into Ark, to pick up Octavia, her phone rang.

“Got it,” Wick told her, fishing it out of the cup holder, and putting it on speaker.

“Aye, Clarke!” The voice crackled down the receiver. She looked over to Wick, curiously.

“Jasper?” she asked.

“Of course! Who else?” She didn’t get a chance to answer because he was talking again. “All right, so Monty wanted me to check on the plans for the summer – we’re coming in like a week and a half, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, flipping on the indicator and turning the corner. “And you’re going to use a Sat Nav, because you’re both terrible with maps and directions.”

“Agreed,” Jasper replied. “And someone’s going to be waiting outside, so we know which house?”

“Obviously,” she told him, slowing the car as she hit a red light. “And it’s a lake house, Jas, that means swimming, okay?”

“How many ladies are there for me to show off my diving skills for?” Came the immediate response. Both Wick and Clarke snorted.

“In total, like three,” Wick told him. “But one’s Clarke, the other’s Raven and the last is thirteen.”

“So it’s a no go on the getting laid front,” Jasper replied, actually sounding disheartened.

“There are guys, though,” Clarke suggested. “Maybe you could take a leaf out of Monty’s book, and look there?” Jasper laughed as the light turned green, and Clarke inched the car forward, in the queue.

“If I were going to date guys, I’d just date him,” Jasper informed her.

“We’re all rooting for you,” Wick told him. Clarke pulled onto Bellamy’s street, and slowed the car, looking out for the building.

“Jas, I have to go. I’m picking up Tae, but we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Got it. Bye, Mum,” he replied, immediately hanging up. Clarke rolled her eyes, parking outside her friend’s building.

“You really are a kind of group Mum,” Wick said, before opening his door and pocketing her phone. Clarke shrugged, stepping out of the car, herself.

“So I’ve heard.” Clarke attended TonDC University, Newk Campus, just fifteen minutes from Wick and Raven (half sharing an apartment, half living with friends). On her first day, she’d gotten lost while trying to find her lecture hall and met two boys, Jasper and Monty. They were taking all the sciences, while she was minoring in Biology, and so they had a class together. Immediately latching onto one another, Clarke found it difficult to make any other friends, and she kind of got used to these ones, instead.

So much so, that she invited the two of them to spend some time at the lake house. Which Wick had told her was a little strange, because she’d never done that for any of her friends back in Polis.

Wick pressed the buzzer, as Clarke leant against the passenger door.

“We’re here, get your ass in gear,” Wick said into the microphone, and a few minutes later, Octavia was pushing through the glass door, trailing her black suitcase along behind her. Clarke opened the boot and the younger girl shoved it in.

“Ready?” Clarke asked her.

“As I’ll ever be,” Octavia smiled back. Clarke looked to the door, where Wick and Bellamy were talking, and let them finish their conversation before quickly heading over. Bellamy stood in the doorway as they embraced, smiling down at her. It’s not like she hadn’t noticed that his expression warmed whenever he was looking in her direction – because she had. She just wondered if he had, too.

“You’ll look after her, right?” He asked, glancing back at Octavia, already in the car.

“We always do, Bell,” she told him. “And you’ll be taking her back?” He nodded with a sigh, resting his head on the door for a moment.

“Yeah, so I’ll see you in a month?”

 

**Day Four**

Clarke woke up around five in the morning, looking over to where Wick used to sleep with a sigh. Abby and Jason were planning on spending the first two weeks of summer out at the lake house with their kids, but had both been called off on work and conferences. So the two of them had had their own holiday for a week and a half, just before Clarke arrived, and gone home again, leaving their adult kids alone for the summer once more.

This meant that Wick had agreed to sleep in their room (after thoroughly washing and changing the sheets), and while he was happy to have the bigger bed, Clarke was happy just to have her room a girl’s only space, again - with Octavia sharing her room throughout the summer.

Now, the younger Blake was still asleep, curled up in a ball, with the duvet wrapped tightly around her. Clarke tip toed through the room, pulling out her swimming costume and resolving to get changed in the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later, she slipped out of the house in just her bikini, her towel trailing behind her, and stood on the dock. Clarke loved the smell of early mornings; her father had always been an early riser, and in the summers when she was very, very little, she remembered waking up to her father, already swimming in the lake. By the time she was nine, she had preferred to sleep in, very rarely waking up at a time in which the sun was only just rising.

Clarke felt strangely close to her father, in that moment. The crisp morning air; the way birds swooped low, or cried out as they woke up; little yawns amongst the trees. The grass was damp with dew; the water droplets that pixies had placed there, as a gift for the grass, her father had once told her. She spent a moment on the dock, her towel in a pool at her feet, before diving into the water.

It was just as cold as always, but refreshingly so; a wake-up call and a morning hug. As her arms sliced through the water, it sounded louder than usual, against the quiet backdrop of nature.

A couple of hours later, her body was numb from use, and her skin was red. She curled up in the towel in the armchair until her brother walked into the living room, and raised an eyebrow at her watching _Bargain Hunt_ on such a low volume. But he must have noticed something different about her; the red skin, the hollow expression, just _something_ , because he climbed into the armchair with her; it was bulky and large, with high arm rests and a taller back. He sunk into it beside her, and repositioned Clarke’s legs so she was curled around him.

She didn’t mind the warmth.

They watched Bargain Hunt together for a while, not really paying attention but letting the sounds wash over her, until she looked up at him; all blond and scruffy as he’d always been. He had two day old stubble and the same blue eyes as her, that made it difficult for people to doubt them being related by blood. But he would also understand, she thought.

“What was your mother like?” She asked quietly. Wick’s entire body tensed for a moment, before he relaxed again, and Clarke realised that in the five or six years they’d seen each other as brother and sister, she’d never asked about his mother. He looked down at her carefully, and Clarke noticed that she’d made his t-shirt damp with her wet hair.

“I don’t remember her very well,” Wick admitted at last. “I was about three when my parents divorced, and about four when we moved away. She never tried to make contact, so we never did.” Clarke swallowed, and watched silently. “Before though, I think she was a good mother. She could get angry easily, but it had an off switch that Dad understood completely. She loved lemons, too.” Clarke exhaled a smile and watched the corners of his lips tilt upwards, too. “Seriously, just before we moved in with you and Abby, I was going through the garage, trying to get rid of stuff, and found box after box of her things that she hadn’t taken with her. She painted lemons, she loved lemon yellow, lemonade – we even had a lemon tree in the back garden until my dad dug it up.”

“She couldn’t have loved them that much, if she left them behind,” Clarke commented. Wick nodded.

“That’s what I thought, but apparently the stuff I found was my things, you know? Baby clothes, toys, things that I was supposed to have had at some point. They were all the same shade of yellow, and you wouldn’t believe the amount of lemon patterned clothes.” Clarke couldn’t help but laugh, and rest her head back down on her brother’s shoulder, happy that she asked.

 

**Day Nine**

Wick and Raven left to go and see and film at the cinema, leaving Octavia and Clarke to their own devices. At first they played a game of Shithead with cards, which Clarke had renamed Watermelon, as a kid, and not wanting to say the rude word around her parents. Octavia caught on quickly and within a couple of rounds had complete domination of the game, leaving Clarke with no chance of winning.

So, naturally, Clarke quit and refused to play her anymore.

“You’re such a child,” Octavia rolled her eyes. Clarke shrugged.

“I’m aware, thank you,” she replied snottily. Octavia sighed, lying back on the floor and staring at the ceiling.

“Are you dating my brother, yet?” She asked eventually. Clarke hesitated as she picked up the cards, strewn across the floor.

“No,” Clarke told her slowly.

“That’s what he said when I asked him, too. I don’t get why you guys don’t – and then every now and again you post that you’re dating someone or other on Facebook, like that girl, um, Alex?”

“Lexa,” Clarke corrected.

“And when Bellamy sees it he gets all moody for a few days, and when you break up he’s all odd, like he doesn’t know if he should be happy or not, and within a few days he’s in a great mood – those are the prime days to ask him to buy me things, because he nearly always says yes.” Clarke laughed, even though she found the conversation strange.

“Do you want me to be dating your brother?” She asked after a pause. Octavia nodded.

“You two make each other happy,” was all she said in response.

 

**Day Twelve**

Clarke sat on the porch for a grand total of an hour and a half. She should have only been out there for ten minutes, but her friends had the uncanny ability to get lost, no matter what, and took almost ten times as long to arrive after reaching the town as they should have. Wick even brought her lunch out for her as she waited, and Clarke ate, sitting on the porch.

When they finally arrived, she jumped up with a smile and a sigh, pointing for them to park in the Blake’s driveway.

“They’ll be okay with this?” Monty asked through the window. Clarke nodded.

“He’s not going to arrive for another couple weeks, anyway,” she shrugged. Clarke enveloped both boys in hugs before leading them into the Griffin-Wick household. “You guys said you were cool with sharing a bed, right?” They nodded absently, and Clarke remembered the previous conversations in which they’d explained their Scout days, and the camping, and sharing tents and beds. She lead them through to her parent’s room, which Wick had vacated that morning, and would be sleeping on the sofa while they were there.

“And we’ll be meeting the infamous Bellamy Blake, will we?” Jasper asked as he dumped his duffle bag on the bed. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You talk about my brother with them?” She jumped, turning and finding Octavia, leaning on the door frame and smirking. Clarke sighed, rolling her eyes.

“They’re my friends, of course I do.” The younger girl smiled, baring her teeth a little.

“They’re destined to be together,” she informed the boys. Jasper grinned and Monty smiled in return.

“Oh, we know,” Monty replied. “She talks about him non-stop.” Octavia shrugged.

“I guess that’s fair – he talks about her all the time, too.” Clarke’s heart warmed for a moment, before filling with dread over the thought of these three people getting to know each other. Octavia was a whirlwind; a force to be reckoned with, and the boys were impractical, unpredictable and could create explosions with an ordinary tube of toothpaste and some tin foil. “Didn’t you meet him when he visited, though?”

Bellamy had visited Clarke for her birthday, back in March, like she had on his in November. He hadn’t told her he was coming, but arrived early on the Saturday with a present and a six pack, and Clarke abandoned the plans she’d already had for the day, so she could spend it with him, instead, hanging out and giving him a tour of TonDC. He slept in her bed with her that night, falling asleep long after four AM after a marathon of their favourite films (all princess-related), and was gone twenty minutes after waking up.

Monty snorted in response to Octavia, and Jasper rolled his eyes.

“She hogged him, and cancelled her plans with us,” he informed her. Octavia raised her eyebrows at the blonde, and Clarke looked away.

“I hung out with you the next day,” she reminded them.

“A Sunday,” Monty told her. “Meaning we couldn’t get drunk because we had a test early the next day.” Clarke sighed over-exaggeratingly, looking away.

“We got smashed the next weekend,” she replied, walking out the door. “Stop complaining about my busy social life!” The boys laughed behind her and Clarke rolled her eyes.

 

**Day Thirteen**

Monty and Jasper were two very different personalities. While they shared interests, such as explosives, science, games, the way they acted were both very different. Monty was quieter and gentler, with a smaller voice but plenty of sarcasm built behind it. Jasper was a time bomb with a very short fuse and an ecstatic personality. They opposed each other in just about every possible way, but still managed to be best friends. It worked well with Clarke, too, as the centre of their spectrum; Monty and one end, Jasper at the other, and Clarke, happily planted in the middle.

“I want to go out,” Jasper announced, standing up suddenly from his seat. Monty sighed.

“Do we have to? I’m pretty comfortable here.” Monty was wrapped up in his bright orange blanket, so just his head of black hair could be seen.  Jasper rolled his eyes.

“You’re always comfortable, and you’ll be comfortable wherever we’re going.”

“And that would be…?” Jasper looked to Clarke for help, and she shrugged.

“We could go for a walk,” she suggested half-heartedly, although, honestly, she was comfortable in her chair.

“Yes!” Jasper nodded. “A walk. Come on!”

They wandered along the trail in the woods, following it around in a large circle. Clarke looked up at the light that filtered through the leaves, and smiled to herself.

“Is Bellamy coming by himself?” Jasper asked to break the silence. Clarke frowned now, liking the quiet that surrounded her before. She shook her head.

“Miller’s coming,” she told him. “Murphy was going to as well but they need the extra seat in the car for Tae, and he’s also can’t get out of work, anyway.” The two nodded beside her.

“Which one was Miller?” Monty asked from her other side. She’d shown them pictures before, and they’d looked at the ones that were tacked onto the walls of her dorm.

“Beard, beanie, darker skin,” she replied with a shrug. Monty just nodded silently and they continued on their walk.

 

**Day Sixteen**

Clarke woke up to find Octavia already out of bed. She shuffled down the stairs, and noticed the back door, wide open. When Clarke wandered outside, she groaned, considering turning back in. Jasper and Monty had constructed a long slide made of tarpaulin, slick with water, that lead from the porch to the lake, with a ramp at the bottom for lift. She turned away before looking back, finding Monty nailing the tarp down, and Jasper dumping another bucket of water at the top. Octavia was carrying a board.

“What the hell is happening?” Clarke moaned, still in her pyjamas. Octavia grinned.

“We’re making a slide, and I’m going first,” she told her. “So don’t even think about cutting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” the blonde murmured, wandering back indoors. Wick was in the kitchen, swallowing a glass of water in one, dressed in his swim shorts. “Why did I invite them?” She asked. Wick laughed.

“Because you knew something like this would happen, and you’re just as excited as the rest of us.” Clarke hummed noncommittally, as Wick put down the glass and touched her arm as he walked past. “Get changed,” he instructed. “You’re going to want to try it.”

Although she wasn’t so sure, Clarke found herself in her bikini, five minutes later, sitting on the porch.

“She’s here!” Octavia called down to the boys, by the waterfront. They ran up, and Octavia shifted the body board in her hands.

“Where did you get that?” Clarke asked. Octavia shrugged.

“Found it in the loft,” she replied, lining up on the tarp. With the boys egging her on and cheering, Octavia took a couple of quick steps before jumping onto her front, board underneath her, and sliding down the hill. She squealed as she went, hitting the ramp and lifting off, into the lake. When the board hit the water, she tumbled off of it, reappearing a moment later to thrust her fist in the air with a cheer. Against her better senses, Clarke cheered, too.

The boys all went before her; Jasper trying it standing up and falling half way down. Wick had set up a camera, it seemed, filming from the very first jump, and he winked into it before taking his go. When Clarke’s turn came up, her body racking with nerves, she resolved to just get it over with, taking the steps like the others and sliding down.

The wind blew in her hair as she screamed, eyes wide and body tense; slipping down the hill. When it got to the jump, her body was leaning too much on one side, turning her as she went, and spinning in the air. She landed safely, though, with a splash, and cheered with the others when she resurfaced, looking around for the board. Clarke couldn’t believe that it had gone well, let alone that she’d enjoyed it. She swam back to the dock, and Octavia took the board from her outstretched hand, before jogging back up the hill.

This is where things went wrong. Octavia must have wanted to do the spin that Clarke had done, and leant to one side as she descended on her stomach. The board flipped and she went with it, tumbling down the hill and hitting her head as she went. Immediately the other four ran to help her, as she fell, but she was still going fast, and she splashed into the shallow end of the lake, board forgotten.

“Octavia!” Clarke screamed, stopping at the edge of the turf. She sunk to her knees, trying to look for the girl, but only the board was on the surface. Wick didn’t stop, when he ran. Her brother dived straight into the water, purposeful and quick, and popping back up only a moment later, hair plastered to his forehead, and a small girl coughing in his arms. Clarke let out a breath of relief, holding out her arms to pull the younger girl back up onto the grass.

She turned her friend over into the recovery position, finding those years of first aid courses her mother signed her up for, suddenly helpful. On her side, Octavia coughed up some water and her eyes opened, wincing immediately. As she tried to sit up, she cried out in pain.

“Tae?” Clarke asked. “Tae, what hurts?”

“My wrist,” she moaned. Octavia’s forehead was covered in red from a small, shallow cut, and her right arm was the same, but she held up her right wrist, and Calrke gently felt about the skin as her friend complained.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I think it might be broken, I’m going to drive you to the hospital, okay?” Octavia nodded, and Clarke looked up, finding Jasper and Monty watching on, nervously.

“I need you two to get us both some clothes,” she instructed, and the boys, happy to be helping, immediately ran off. Wick approached the two, still drenched from the swim, and Octavia smiled weakly at him.

“I’ll go with you,” he told them, turning and heading back up to the house without another thought. Clarke helped Octavia up, and they walked towards the car, finding Wick already out there with the car keys, now wearing a t-shirt, and the boys holding their clothes. Wick drove quickly but carefully, and Clarke got changed in the back seat, helping Octavia with her clothes immediately afterwards.

In Accident and Emergency, the three of them sat, for only a short wait; the nurses worried by the cuts on Octavia’s skin. After about an hour, Clarke sighed.

“I better call Bellamy,” she told the other two, who nodded grimly in return. Wick leant her his phone, and she wandered around the corner, clicking on his contact.

“Wick,” Bellamy greeted.

“Clarke, actually,” she corrected.

“Oh, hey,” he replied. “What’s up?”

“Ah,” she sighed, looking around the hallway. At the far end were nurses in dark blue, and a man in a wheelchair. “We’re actually in the hospital, right now.”

“What?” His response was immediate and urgent.

“A&E to be precise.”

“What happened? Is Octavia okay?” She winced at the thought of telling him.

“There was a small accident, she’s got a couple scrapes. A possibly broken wrist, too.” She heard his sharp sigh.

“Clarke, I’ve got to come down there,” he told her. She shook her head, but he couldn’t see that.

“No, Bell, we’ve got this taken care of. You’ve got to work, and Tae’s fine, anyway. She’s cracked like four jokes since we sat down, and she’s even persuaded Wick to buy her stuff from the vending machine.”

“What about all the forms?”

“Taken care of – she knew a lot of answers, and we knew a load, too. Bell, she’ll be fine.” He sighed once more.

“Can I talk to her?” Clarke handed the phone over a couple of seconds later, and sat anxiously, biting the nail of her thumb as Octavia spoke.

 

**Day Sixteen**

Jasper and Monty felt responsible for the accident, and took it upon themselves to buy alcohol for the adults, and Octavia a very large amount of sweets and chocolate. Octavia took it upon herself to act like she thought it was their fault for about a day, so they would do her washing up for her, and then shrugged, because, really, it wasn’t their fault at all.

 

**Day Twenty**

“Are you going to suggest Monopoly?” Octavia asked as Clarke opened her mouth. The latter of the two girls sighed.

“In about ten minutes, yeah. I was going to suggest we order pizza, right now.”

 

**Day Twenty Five**

As the four adults – although, they didn’t really feel like adults – swam in the lake, Clarke noticed Lincoln sit down on the porch next to Octavia. She’d seen him a couple of times that summer, and was happy that Octavia still had something to do, and still spoke to him.

 

**Day Twenty Seven**

Clarke opened the front door when the doorbell rang, and smirked a little at the sight of Lincoln.

“Tae!” She called out. “Lincoln’s here!” Almost immediately she could hear the younger girl’s footsteps. Clarke leant against the door frame and Wick came up behind her, looking over the other guy. Lincoln was tall, even for his age (eighteen), and made it fairly obvious that he worked out. His skin was about the shade of Bellamy’s, but while Bellamy had curly hair and his hard edges could be covered by soft lines, Lincoln had a shaved head and permanent strong frame.

Wick leaned over Clarke for a moment, taking in Lincoln like he had before.

“So, what’s your business with Octavia?” He asked, and Clarke smiled at the memory of him asking the same thing to Finn. But Lincoln seemed a lot better than Finn, if she was honest.

“We’re going to this art gallery where they take your picture like they would in Victorian times, so you have to remain really still or the photo blurs – it’s actually pretty cool,” Lincoln explained with a  shrug. Clarke couldn’t help but agree with him – it did sound pretty enjoyable. Octavia pushed past the two siblings to smile at Lincoln.

“Be back by five,” Clarke told her. “I don’t want to send out a search party.” Octavia snorted, glancing over.

“Would your search party just be Jasper and Monty?” Clarke shrugged.

“I’m sure they’re good at searching,” she replied. Octavia took Lincoln’s arm and they walked off the porch, Lincoln sending a smile back to the siblings in the doorway.

“I like him,” Wick announced when they’d turned off onto the pavement. Clarke smiled at her brother.

“Octavia seems to, too.”

 

**Day Twenty Seven**

“I won’t play Monopoly,” Jasper refused. “You always win and that’s unfair.”

“It’s because she cheats,” Wick informed him. Clarke rolled her eyes, but she had given up on denying it.

 

**Day Thirty One**

Bellamy arrived just after lunch, and picked Clarke up in a hug, before demanding to see Octavia’s broken wrist. He didn’t seem angry about it, just not impressed that it happened on her watch.

“You’re not mad?” She asked, just to make sure, as Miller unloaded the truck. Bellamy smiled and shook his head.

“I would’ve given the slide a go, as well,” he admitted. “But you said you’d look after her, and you did – you took her to the hospital, you’re letting her live with you, hell, O said that Wick saved her from drowning.” Bellamy wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked towards his house. “You did good.”

 

**Day Thirty Two**

“I think Monty’s got a crush,” Jasper told her, when he sat by her side on the porch. Clarke raised her eyebrows, looking from Jasper to where Monty sat on the dock. In the water, Miller swam around, and they seemed to be talking.

“How definite are you?” She asked. He shrugged.

“Like eighty, eighty five percent,” Jasper replied.

 

**Day Thirty Four**

Monty did, in fact, have a crush.

Clarke had not really witnessed this, besides him in the occasional bar, with Clarke as his wing woman. But, Monty had a fully-blown crush on Miller, and she could tell by the way his eyes followed the other man, and how he always asked his opinion, before anyone else. Monty always made sure to be sitting close by, and sent quick glances every now and again.

Clarke told Bellamy, who laughed.

Bellamy told Miller, who stayed surprisingly silent.

 

**Day Thirty Seven**

Clarke watched Bellamy, jump off the dock and into the water. She sat on the porch steps, wondering what she should say to him. So many times over the past year she’d wanted to tell him how she felt – she was mature now, wasn’t she? She met new people, did new things, had quick relationships and met guys in bars. None of them compared to Bellamy Blake. Not a damn one.

But, as she watched him, she resolved to say nothing at all. Because, telling him nothing, and letting the two of them continue on with their closer-than-average friendship that border lined flirting was easier than being rejected, or being told that she had to grow up a little more.

Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed him taking a page out of Monty’s book – she’s seen the glances, and the smiles; the way he asked her opinion first and sat close to her at all times.

It was a matter of time, Clarke was sure.

 

**Day Thirty Nine**

Miller, Octavia and Bellamy bundled into their truck, and drove off early in the morning. Jasper and Monty climbed into their car next, with a hug and a promise to see the siblings in a couple of weeks (Clarke would be sharing a house with the two of them and some other friends for the next year). Then Wick and Clarke left, with long, lingering looks at their lake house and a sigh.

They’d be back next year, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barely even know what this was.  
> Thanks to everyone still reading even though I'm having blatantly obvious issues when it comes to writing it. (Sometimes I wish I had just left it as a one-shot of the first summer.)
> 
> THANKS.


	12. Summer Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less self-depreciating message than usual, I guess, in that I really like the beginning half of this chapter. I wrote it when I was half asleep, but deciding to change it up; try and make the story more interesting for me to write, and this is what I came up with. The Lexa plot line just wasn't able to fully be taken out of the words, even when I wanted to, so there are little bits still in there just to symbolise her attempts of moving on past Bellamy, and horribly failing.
> 
> Don't worry, though, she's barely in there.

**Six Days Before**

Clarke drove the car in a straight line, from TonDC to Ark, only stopping for the queue of traffic that she hit after four hours without a break. She was supposed to be going home the next day, heading back to Polis, with a car filled with her things, Jason would be driving Wick home. But she didn’t want to do that – she couldn’t.

For the first hour on the road, she cried. She never really cried all that much, so it was like she was overcompensating for everything. She didn’t care that her things were neatly piled in boxes in her bedroom back at the house, or that her friends were going to have to figure out a way to transport it all back to her. They watched easily enough as Clarke pulled her suitcase roughly down the stairs, her face screwed up in an attempt not to cry in front of them. They had all protested; asking her to stop or slow down, or _come back inside, Clarke, please_. But she wasn’t going to.

Clarke needed to hide; somewhere safe, where she wouldn’t be judged, and just held, instead. Her first thought was to go to the lake house – she had the keys, after all – but her parents could find her there, and Raven would already be back in town. Besides, Bellamy wasn’t going to be there – and that’s who she wanted to see.

So, her goal was to reach Ark before it got dark, and she knew the roads of the town by heart; she’d been visiting at every available opportunity, and Bellamy had been doing the same in return. He was twenty three, already graduated from University, and teaching at a secondary school for experience. He wasn’t enjoying it, though; he didn’t like the school, or the students or the teachers, and Clarke sat on the phone with him for hours, just listening to him complain, and then sigh at the end, before asking about her week.

That’s what she needed, right now. She needed someone who would just talk and talk, and not realise. She needed someone with warm hugs, and large blankets, and an affinity for a certain blonde. Bellamy Blake was that person.

When she reached his apartment complex; the same one that he’d been living in for four years, she sat in the car for a while, staring out the window. She didn’t know what she was going to say, or do, or how she was going to go about persuading him to let her stay. They were best friends, yes, and their arguments were getting fewer and sparser over the years – but their last one had been about Clarke getting back together with Lexa, and there she was, arriving before him, single.

Clarke pushed her ex-girlfriend from her mind with a sigh. She had never understood why people got back together with their exes, but she did now. Because she was lonely, and sad, and Lexa was everything she wanted to be; determined, driven, strong. Clarke looked upon Lexa in awe – even the first time, when it was a couple of weeks and three dates in total. Lexa wasn’t why she was in Ark; she didn’t need to be on Clarke’s mind.

A knock on her window pulled her from her thoughts, and Clarke’s head snapped to the passenger side. Rain beat down on the windshield, matching her mood, apparently, and outside, in the cold, stood Bellamy. She immediately leaned over and opened the door for him, and he rushed to get inside.

“How did you know I was out here?” She asked when he slammed the door shut. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair and Clarke watched the water droplets fly.

“Octavia was looking out the window and recognised the car,” he replied with a shrug, shaking his head for good measure. Clarke didn’t even flinch at the water splattering her skin and the inside of the car. “What are you doing out here?”

“Working up the nerve to go inside,” she told him, facing the front again, and tilting her head back on the head rest. She’d left the keys in the ignition, and the engine purred softly as background noise, accompanied by the sound of the radio. She thought she heard _Wham!_ play, but she wasn’t sure, then again, how was she to ever forget the voice of George Michael, when it was all her father used to listen to?

“I thought you were still in TonDC,” Bellamy said next. She nodded only a fraction.

“I’m supposed to be,” she replied. “But I left this morning.”

“And came here?” He sounded incredulous to her, like he was questioning her choices in friends, and decisions and general life management.

“Well what was I supposed to do?” She snapped, turning her head towards him. He didn’t even wince. Bellamy’s face was passive as he reached out and gripped the hand that clutched the gear stick.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he told her gently, and the frayed edges of Clarke’s demeanour relaxed.

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m sorry.” He nodded a little and Clarke watched the dripping tips of his hair. She noticed he had a light stubble, like he hadn’t shaved in a day or two, and his hair had recently been cut.

“I meant, you came to _me_?” Clarke nodded, swallowing and realising her throat was dry. Her eyes scoured the car for her backpack, landing on it in the foot well of the passenger side. Bellamy followed her gaze and held it up for her, as she slipped her hand from his to pull out a water bottle. It was half empty and the water was warm, but she gulped it down all the same.

“You’re the only one I wanted to go to,” she told him as she flicked the cap closed on the bottle, reaching out and slipping her hand back into his again. Bellamy nodded slowly, his eyes searching her face as if the answers were going to leak from her skin.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked eventually, his feet shuffling around the bag that was back in the foot well. Clarke sighed, shaking her head.

“Not right now, I don’t want to hear the ‘I’m sorry’,” she replied, looking back to the windshield where the rain was lighter, but still tapping away at the glass. She wondered if it wanted to get in; to be in the warm like her, and protected from the clouds and the grey sky above.

“I wouldn’t say ‘I’m sorry.” She glanced over to Bellamy, who seemed confused by her words, before shaking her head.

“I just don’t want to, yet,” she decided. Bellamy nodded, and before he could say another thing, Clarke reached forward and turned up the volume of the radio. It was definitely _Wham!_ that filtered through the speakers, and she knew the words by heart. Clarke mumbled them under her breath, aware of Bellamy’s gaze, boring into her skin.

“ _Where did your heart go? Did you put it on a train? Did you leave it in the rain? Or down in Mexico?”_

An hour later, she was in a different change of clothes, wrapped up in a blanket on Bellamy’s sofa, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands and her things by the wall. Bellamy had gone through her bag to find her phone, if only to tell her that she had almost twenty missed calls, and even more unread texts. She hadn’t really replied, even then. But then Bellamy sat down next to her, and she leant her head on his shoulder and sighed.

“I should phone Wick,” she muttered into his shoulder. Bellamy nodded.

“You probably should,” he agreed, sliding her phone onto her lap. “I’m going to ask O what she wants for dinner, you phone your brother.” He made a move to stand up, and Clarke caught his hand.

“Thank you.” Clarke poured all of her sincerity and truth into those two words, hoping he would believe her, or maybe see how truly desperate she was. In return, Bellamy smiled and nodded.

“Anytime, Princess,” he replied. Bellamy shut the door behind him when he went to go speak to Octavia, and Clarke brought her brother’s contact information up on her phone, quickly reading through the texts he’d sent, about hoping she wasn’t being an idiot, or that she didn’t crash the car, or that he would be super pissed if her name came up on the news that night because she was dead.

His texts only made her smile a little, but it was better than nothing, and she pressed the call button. It only took a single ring for him to pick up, and Clarke wondered if he was sitting by the phone, waiting for her.

“Clarke?” He asked urgently, the moment he picked up.

“Hey, Wick,” she sighed, trying to nudge a smile into her voice, but coming up empty-handed.

“Clarke? Thank God, what happened?” She swallowed, glancing across Bellamy’s living room. The TV was on mute, but the American sitcom was still playing, and she imagined that their pauses between lines were to make room for the canned laughter.

“I kind of just got up and left,” she told him, not knowing what to say.

“Well I got that much; Jasper’s been phoning me every twenty minutes, just to see if you’ve got in contact yet. Clarke, you scared a lot of people.” She sighed, burying her face in the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could say. On the other end of the line, Wick sighed.

“Where are you now?” He asked. “I phoned Dad to tell me the minute you got back – if he hasn’t, I swear to God-“

“I’m at Bellamy’s,” she interrupted, not wanting to listen to his half-baked threats. Wick sighed once again.

“I should have guessed,” he said, almost angry with himself. “How did I not guess that?” Clarke shrugged into the blanket.

“Because of the travel time, probably,” she told him. “I hit traffic but I still made it here quicker than I should have.” She heard Wick huff a little, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” she replied, in a tiny voice.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Probably.”

“Okay,” Wick told her. “Get some sleep. I’ll arrange for your things to be taken back, you have your clothes, right?” She made an affirmative hum. “Fine, we’ll figure this all out tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“It’s not problem, Clarke,” Wick replied. “I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too.” They hung up and Clarke stared into the silent living room of Bellamy Blake’s apartment, and turned the volume back up on the TV, just so she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts.

 

**Five Days Before**

When Clarke woke up the next day, she woke up on the sofa bed, with Octavia lying next to her, her body curled up around Clarke’s. She hadn’t been there when Clarke went to sleep, so she must have arrived since, finding it fit to crawl into bed with her. Clarke didn’t mind though; Octavia was warm, and she made little noises at the back of her throat whenever she shifted to get comfortable.

Bellamy walked in a few minutes after she woke up, and sat down on the other side of her. Clarke tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, and he rolled his eyes, lying down instead. She felt safer in between the two Blakes; and she remembered feeling as if she were home in their arms, a year or two before. This was the same, but it felt cosier and warmer, with Bellamy facing her back and Octavia facing her front.

Clarke blindly reached out behind her and dragged Bellamy’s arm over her waist, shuffling back into his grip. She didn’t care if he tensed, or shuffled his head so her hair wasn’t in his mouth, so long as he kept his arm there, and Clarke was surrounded by his embrace.

Later, when Octavia went out to school, it still being school time for her, Bellamy phoned in sick. He stayed with her throughout the day until she looked up at him, his eyes glued to the medical comedy on the screen, and smiled. She had chosen the right place to run to – because, yes, she knew she was running, thank you very much. Clarke waited until the show was over to start speaking, in case he was actually invested in the plot line.

“I was at Lexa’s, two nights ago,” she told him, resting her head on his shoulder to get comfortable. His arm had been wrapped around her shoulders for the last hour or so, and now it squeezed her gently. “And she broke up with me. But,” she sniffed. “But I could deal with that, you know? I could deal with her breaking up with me while we were still _fucking naked_ – and I can deal with you saying that you told me so, because you did. You told me it was bad and that she would just hurt me, and I should have listened to you.” Bellamy looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Clarke was thankful for that.

“But, then, as I was going home, yesterday morning, I got a phone call from Mum?” She didn’t know why she was questioning it – she wished she was, asking if it really happened, if she really had to believe it. “Wells died.”

Bellamy tensed for only a moment (possibly realising what she meant, the day before, when she said she didn’t want to hear him say ‘I’m sorry’), before drawing her further into his body, wrapping both arms around her frame and holding her as she cried. Wells Jaha was her oldest friend – they might not have been the closest, but they had dated, and they had grown up together, and they still made sure to have their bi-monthly Skype calls, just to keep in touch. Clarke felt the tears growing again, the ones she was sure she’d shed only the day before, and they felt hot against her skin.

 

**Day One**

Clarke was still in Ark. The funeral was another four days away, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back to the town she had grown up in. She didn’t want to see his body, and she didn’t want to see his father, his face haggard and old. So she stayed in Ark, with Bellamy, who seemed happy to have her around (although she did check, every day, to make sure it was okay that she was still there).

They’d pushed back their plans to go to the lake house and Clarke didn’t mind very much, finding a lot of comfort in being in Bellamy’s home, surrounded by his things, and his friends, who were still very comforting when they needed to be. Miller brought her books that she would read in three hours, to keep her mind from wandering back to Wells, dead of a brain aneurism, and Murphy would bring alcohol which Bellamy set a cut-off limit for, claiming he didn’t want a replay of their last major drinking session. (Honestly, Clarke didn’t either.)

During the day, Bellamy’s friends would hang around the apartment, while Bellamy and Octavia were at school, just so her mind couldn’t wander by itself. She needed the noise, and found herself listening to the same _Wham!_ playlist, over and over. She couldn’t feel close to her father in a foreign home, in a different town – she hadn’t found a way yet. All of her clothes hadn’t been bought by him, anymore, and she’d grown out of the ones he had. But she wanted to feel close to him, because being close to her father was almost the same as being close to Wells.

“You’re playing _Wham!_ , again?” Bellamy questioned when he arrived home from work, Octavia standing from the sofa and heading off into her room, as if they were taking shifts on Clarke-watch (and they probably were). Clarke nodded slowly.

“Dad used to love them,” she admitted at last. “And I guess I just need to feel like he’s still around, right now.” Bellamy nodded slowly, placing his backpack on the floor behind the sofa, and wandering off into his room. She paid him little attention and listened to George Michael singing for someone to wake him up before they go-go. When he re-emerged, he knelt down by the sofa she was laying on, offering a fond smile.

“I think you need this more than I do,” he told her, offering up a green piece of fabric. Clarke’s eyes widened at the sight of it, that Bellamy had remembered when she had forgotten, years before. Part of her hated herself for forgetting, but she sat up and let him help her shrug it on. Clarke zipped it up, and the sleeves still went over her hands, which was fine by her, as she curled back up on the sofa, smiling to herself. It smelt like the sea, just like Bellamy, but it also smelt exactly like Jake Griffin.

 

**Day Four**

Bellamy drove Clarke to Polis, leaving fourteen year old Octavia by herself and at the hands of the neighbours. The drive was mostly silent, and he parked outside her house, one of those mini-mansions, glancing up at it. He hadn’t known Wells and so was going to be helping her settle back in, before returning to Ark.

Bellamy carried her suitcase up to the door, even though she protested, and followed her inside, staring openly at everything. Bellamy had never actually been to the Griffin-Wick family home, before. He’d seen pictures, but they didn’t really capture it properly.

The entire house was as if it were a showroom catalogue; not as homey as Bellamy’s tiny apartment, but filled with photos on the walls, and tidied everyday by the same maid that had worked for the family for as long as Clarke could remember. He followed her through the marble foyer, staring at the wide-set stairs, and the open plan layout. She couldn’t see anyone around – Wick was probably upstairs, and their parents still at work, so she led her friend up to her room.

Clarke knocked on Wick’s bedroom door as she walked past, and when she reached hers, a little further down the hall, a scruffy head of blond popped out the doorway.

“Yeah?” He caught sight of Clarke, and the door flung open, just as she was opening her own. He enveloped her in a tight hug, squeezing her for all he was worth at the same time as probably trying to punish her for leaving. “Fuck,” he breathed in her ear. “Don’t do that to me again, okay?” Wick held her at an arm’s length, before looking to Bellamy. “Don’t let her do that to me again.” The older boy smiled, heading past them into Clarke’s room, and lowering her case to the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Bellamy smiled. “I looked after her.” Wick raised an eyebrow, and then noticed the jacket that swamped her figure before smiling.

“Good,” Wick replied. “Although I think I can handle her for now. I bought a load of ice cream, for when you got back?” Clarke smiled at her brother gratefully, and the three of them sat on the sofa, curled up under blankets, eating and watching those old princess films that Clarke earned her nickname over.

 

**Day Five**

At Wells’ funeral, the sky was uncharacteristically bright. He wasn’t being buried, but cremated, and the family and friends stood quietly outside the hall, another ceremony going on inside. She looked around the guests, recognising some from school, and others from the parties that she would have been dragged to as a child. Wick knew very little people, joining the family after Abby Griffin grew tired of attending, and focused solely on her work and family, instead. Thelonious Jaha approached them at one point, crowding them in for a hug that smelled a lot like alcohol, before the hearse arrived.

There were a mixture of different people, carrying the coffin inside. It was led by the funeral director, but she noticed different uncles, his father, and a friend or two from school, holding the rest of it. Inside, they sat and stood when they had to sing hymns, and Clarke kept a firm grip on her brother’s hand, even if she couldn’t turn the page of the program very easily. She shed the same tears she had lost, days before in Bellamy’s home, and Wick handed her tissue after tissue, admitting he had at least three packets in his pocket, just for her.

 

**Day Eight**

Clarke sat in the passenger seat of their car as Wick drove to the lake house. Over the ride, she remembered the day she found out about Wells. She was stinging from the break up – although, it wasn’t much of one, more like sex and then a ‘yeah, I think we should see different’ people – when they phone call came.

Her mother spent no more than forty seconds on the line, claiming she had to be in a surgery, just telling her that Wells was in the hospital and that he had died, an hour or so beforehand. When Clarke hung up, she stopped dead in the street. Part of her considered running back to Lexa’s place –they hadn’t really been dating; more like hanging out and being affectionate, just because they had nothing else to do. Clarke had been trying to get over Bellamy when Lexa strode back into her life, and she thought it might be a working method. Really, all it did was show her how much more comfortable she would have been if she had just told Bellamy how she felt, the summer before.

Even considering that now, she knew she wasn’t going to do it.

 

**Day Twelve**

Clarke and Wick had the lake house to themselves, and Clarke set her alarm for five AM every day, just so she could jump into the lake and swim until her muscles grew numb. She regretted never inviting Wells to the lake house; she regretted never Skyping him once a week, instead of a fort night. She just regretted everything that hadn’t made their friendship even better, and Clarke swam alone, for hours, mulling over her thoughts.

 

**Day Nineteen**

Wick spent a lot of his time with Raven, finding that Clarke didn’t appreciate the company as much as he hoped she would. Raven had decided not to get back her old job that summer, and came over every morning, just as Clarke was getting up from the arm chair, where she rested her muscles after her swims. Raven would give her a morning hug before taking Wick out to do something through the day. Clarke didn’t mind very much; she kind of liked her thoughts, after a while.

 

**Day Twenty Three**

Everyday Bellamy would phone her, if only for a few minutes, just to check in. She would smile and sound as upbeat as possible, but she guessed he wasn’t buying it.

“What’s Octavia been doing this summer?” Clarke asked, flopping back onto her bed.

“Hanging out with friends, I think,” he told her. Bellamy had picked up some shifts in the bar for the summer, changing his timetable from every Friday and Saturday night, to most nights, instead. “Though she’s craving to go back.” Clarke tried laughing, but she couldn’t.

“I saw Lincoln, yesterday,” she told him. “He asked where she was.”

“They don’t talk on the phone?”

“Not as much as we did – I think Tae’s trying to seem non-clingy.” He laughed at that.

“You never had a problem with that,” he smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were the clingiest ten year old.” Clarke furrowed her brow.

“If I remember rightly, _you_ phoned _me_ ,” she told him. He just laughed again.

 

**Day Twenty Six**

There was a knock on the front door, and Clarke reluctantly pulled herself up from the sofa before Raven or Wick had a chance to untangle themselves at the other end. They’d been living together, but they still couldn’t spend particularly long without the other. When she opened the door, she recognised the voice before the person.

“You know, it’s weird not seeing you waiting for me on the porch.” Her eyes snapped up to Bellamy’s face, and she surged forward into the hug.

“I would have if you’d have told me you were coming,” she protested.

 

**Day Twenty Eight**

Bellamy seemed to notice her routine. So, when her alarm went off at five, she got changed and wandered down to the lake, ready to jump in. Instead, she found Bellamy sitting out on the dock, in wait.

“I don’t get how you can wake up at this time every day,” he yawned, glancing over to her. She shrugged, laying out her towel on the wood and sitting on top of it.

“I’m used to it,” she shrugged.

“Why are you up this early?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Bellamy sent her a pointed look and she shrugged. “Dad used to get up this early.” He nodded, understanding, before leaning his head on her shoulder. She noticed he never did this, due to their height differences, but she liked the feel of it all the same.

“Talk to me, Clarke,” Bellamy sighed. She opened her mouth to protest, but he kept speaking. “Tell me what’s bothering you, and how I can fix it.” She sighed.

“I’m mourning,” she told him. “There’s no way to fix it.”

“Celebrate,” he suggested.

“Wells is dead,” she bit out. “There is no reason to celebrate.”

“Celebrate that you’re still alive.” She glanced down at him, swallowing.

“Sounds a bit rude, doesn’t it? My friend is dead, but I’m not, so I should party.” Bellamy snorted.

“I mean, live each day like he can’t.” She sniffed.

“Is that what you do?” Bellamy was silent for a while, just looking out over the lake.

“I try to,” he replied. “Mum was your age when she had me.” Clarke was only twenty, and she felt the sudden pressure that had been on Aurora’s shoulders. “I may mess a lot of stuff up, but at least I’m living the life she actually wanted.” Clarke didn’t say anything else, just grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. She didn’t go swimming that day.

 

**Day Thirty Four**

Clarke watched Bellamy carefully out the window. She wanted to tell him that she liked him, but she didn’t really know how. Honestly, she spent most days trying to figure out how to talk to him about her feelings, but she wasn’t so sure how it would work. She’d dated Lexa to try and move on, but it hadn’t even worked a little bit. Bellamy was hers, she knew it. She couldn’t find another person as great as him, there wasn’t even a chance.

She just wondered if he felt the same way.

Clarke watched the way he moved as he spoke to Wick; the gestures with his hands; the way he pushed his hair out of his eyes. She was used to all of them, but she still loved to watch the way he did it; absently, barely even noticing the movements. She considered just walking out the house and kissing him, but Clarke remembered how it had gone the last time; the way they avoided each other, and the stuttering as she ran off. No, if she was going to tell him, she would have to spell it out for him.

Clarke just didn’t know how to do that.

She was watching _Beauty and The Beast_ when they came back in; finding it on television and not passing up the opportunity. Bellamy landed on the sofa next to her, leaving barely a gap between them, and his leg pressing up against hers. He smiled when he saw what she was watching, and Clarke remembered the day he said that it was their story: the story of Clarke and Bellamy.

She was the beauty, he had told her another time. And there was certainly a time limit. Clarke thought about the way she called him the beast, out of spite. She still couldn’t figure out what he meant in the first place. She glanced up at him.

“ _Beauty and The Beast_ ,” she said slowly, and his eyes flickered to hers. “The story of Clarke and Bellamy.” The corners of his mouth turned upwards, and his eyes jumped back to the screen. Clarke’s didn’t though; she just watched him carefully.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” He asked. She shook her head. “It’s been like eleven years, Princess. Do you want me to tell you?” She paused before shaking her head again.

“I’ll figure it out,” she promised, looking back to the screen. She watched as Belle and the beast danced around the ballroom, and Clarke just couldn’t work it out.

 

**Day Thirty Eight**

Bellamy drove he and Octavia back to Ark, and Clarke and Wick followed behind, in their own car. They stopped at the same rest stop, and ate together during lunch, before hugging their goodbyes. Wick and Clarke took a different turn off, and she watched as her friend’s car disappeared down the motorway.

Back in Polis, Harper and Monroe greeted her, pulling her in for a hug.

“How’ve you been?” Harper asked first, her voice laced with sympathy, even though Clarke knew that they were closer to Wells than she had ever been.

“Better than expected,” Clarke replied, pulling on the sleeves of her jacket. That was when she noticed that she hadn’t given the jacket back to Bellamy, and a smile pulled at her mouth, still being able to smell the sea within the fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday, I spent multiple hours creating a playlist for a guy I know who just lost his virginity. I decided that I'm going to send it to him, instead of just telling him that I know, and it's turned out really well. His girlfriend said that I'm not allowed to tell him that I know yet, because everyone is just speculating over it - but I'm really looking forward to it. Anyway, that's why I did very little writing until I was half asleep, and I generally just wanted to announce that I actually wasted my time doing that.  
> Thanks for reading, tell me what you think.


	13. Summer Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirteen's a lucky number, and it's lucky enough to be the FINAL CHAPTER of this fic.
> 
> First off, I'd like to apologise for the six day wait - I wrote a 7k chapter and hated every word of it, and then procrastinated my way through the next one. Tonight I sat down, I banged out 5k words and I got it done, so I do really hope you enjoy the last instalment. I personally think it's a little anti-climactic, alongside being violently unedited - but I also think life is like that, and it feels natural to me, in the way that there wasn't some massive dramatic scene of professing love or whatever (so don't expect one).
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking this out with me, I really appreciate it.
> 
> Enjoy.

**Day One**

The volume was turned all the way up in the car; Wick and Clarke screaming along to the lyrics at the top of their lungs. They had graduated. They were done with university, and learning, and early mornings, and were ready to actually start their lives. Clarke had finished a degree in Art, and Wick in Engineering (or, well, the title of the degree was at least ten words long, and Clarke couldn’t actually remember it). Wick had almost a month until he was being thrust into his job, and Clarke was still figuring out what she was going to do.

But neither of them cared at that moment, because they were going ninety down the motorway, all windows rolled down and singing to Bon Jovi’s ‘Living On A Prayer’  like their life depended on it. All in all, it was a good day.

 

**Day Two**

Wick and Raven were still figuring out the logistics of actually moving in together, outside the limits that university gave them. They were moving to TonDC for the foreseeable future, officially and wholly renting a crappy flat together, which Raven would no doubt fill with scraps of metal, and the two of them would design their easily-breakable robots together. Clarke was happy for them; she liked walking in on them discussing their future, and it was something she was going to miss. Because she wouldn’t be staying in TonDC with them – no, she was moving. She just hadn’t decided to tell anyone yet.

Murphy and Miller drove down to the lake house, Octavia in the back seat of Murphy’s piece of shit car, with the promise that Bellamy would be there in a week or so. She didn’t mind all that much – the others were good company, even if Wick and Raven spent their time together, and Octavia left at every available opportunity to go and see Lincoln, whom she was still working out the kinks of getting to fall in love with her.

The first task of having them there meant that Clarke would have to find the keys to the Blake’s lake house – no small feat – and after thirty minutes of searching, she found them, in the back of the fridge.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” Murphy asked as she fished them out.

“Don’t ask me,” she muttered, slamming the fridge shut. “Blame Tae.”

Clarke followed the boys through to the house they’d be staying in, and settled herself onto their sofa.

“So why are you out here, a week early?” She asked. Murphy shrugged and Miller glanced down at her before speaking.

“I think Bell wants to sell the place,” he informed her, causing her eyebrows to shoot up her forehead.

“The hell?” Miller shrugged.

“O doesn’t know, but they’re running low on funds,” he sighed, sitting next to her on the sofa. Murphy sat on the other side; a Clarke sandwich.

“Oh yeah,” Murphy nodded. “He’s been taking more shifts at the bar.”

“Selling this place is a total last resort, but…” Miller trailed off, looking away, letting Clarke wrap her head around the information. He couldn’t be selling the place. Bellamy had spent the past twelve years of his life coming here – he just couldn’t.

“He can’t do it,” she told them. “This place is important.”

“And I bet the next owners will feel the same way,” Murphy replied. “But they’ll be wondering who the blondes are who turn up each summer, next door. We’ll hope for young, hot people – but I’m guessing it’ll be family.” Clarke turned away from him and his negativity, staring at Miller with pleading eyes.

“You have to change his mind.” He sighed.

“We’ve been trying to – but he needs the money, Clarke.”

 

**Day Five**

Clarke clicked through the options on her phone, looking through the different places for rent. She cringed at the sight of their costs, wondering how much she had in the bank, and how much her jobs had actually brought in. While she questioned who would hire her, a body sunk to the porch steps on her right, and Clarke glanced over.

“Hey, Tae,” Clarke smiled. Octavia pursed her lips in thought, and Clarke briefly wondered if she was deciding to say hello or not.

“How do you get a guy to like you?” She asked, instead. Clarke raised her eyebrows before exhaling a scoff.

“I’ll tell you when I figure it out,” she promised, looking back to her phone and locking it.

“I’m serious,” Octavia continued, a whining edge to her tone.

“So am I,” Clarke sighed. “The last boyfriend I had was Wells, and that was like… seven years ago – God, was it really that long?” She winced at the thought. While she’d come to accept her friend’s death, thinking about their past was something she did rarely; not wanting to bring the emotions back up.

“But you’ve dated girls, right?” Clarke nodded. “Is that the same?”

“Girls are pickier,” Clarke mused. “But they’re people, so yeah, I guess – they’re the same. What’s up?” Octavia shrugged and looked away, so Clarke leaned over and bumped her shoulder. Octavia sighed.

“Fine – I’m trying to get Lincoln to go out with me,” she admitted. “But it’s really difficult because he’s older, and more mature and-“

“Tae,” Clarke sighed. “He’s twenty. You’re what, fifteen?” She nodded. “Right, first off, that’s pretty weird and creepy, and I definitely wouldn’t be going for that. Second, you’re still young, Tae – date people your own age and work up towards the big one.” Octavia raised an eyebrow, slowly nodding.

“I know it’s weird with the age difference, but you and Bell have a couple years difference.”

“Me and Bell aren’t dating,” Clarke sighed. Octavia nodded.

“I know – but you practically are, and that’s not as weird.”

“It would have been weird if I were fifteen and he were eighteen,” she replied, trying to push the thought from her mind that she was actually fifteen, and he was eighteen, when she’d kissed him. Next to her, the other girl nodded, unaware of her thoughts.

“So I just wait it out?” She asked. Clarke nodded. “Is that what you’re doing?” The blonde gave the other girl a dry look, not responding but instead looking out over the lake. Octavia sighed. “He likes you, you know,” she told her. “He just doesn’t want to make the wrong move, or fuck stuff up.”

“Thanks, Tae,” Clarke said absently, trying not to listen. She really didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“I’m serious – he talks about you all the time. And he hasn’t brought a girl home in ages, or anything.” Clarke sighed, deciding she didn’t want to think those words through just yet.

 

**Day Ten**

When Bellamy arrived, they hugged quickly before she glared at him. He raised an amused eyebrow in response.

“What did I do?” He asked, turning to get his duffle bag from the bed of the truck.

“You’re selling the house,” she replied, annoyed. She noticed him hesitate in his actions and the way his shoulders slumped, before looking back at her disappointed expression.

“I can’t afford to keep it,” he told her, sadly. “There’s no money left-“

“What about all that inheritance from your mother?” He looked away again, reaching over the side to pull his bag out.

“It’s in Octavia’s bank,” he replied. “There was originally enough money for us to live off of, but then came taxes and living expenses and rent – it’s too much, and I’m not making enough to subsidise.” She sighed, a frown etched into her face, before he wrapped an arm around her, pulling him into his chest. She gripped him tightly, wondering if this hug was for her, or for him.

“Why is all the money with Octavia? Surely you were supposed to split it half and half.” He shrugged when he pulled away.

“I don’t want her to have this struggle,” he sighed, starting to trudge up to the house. “This way she’ll have enough for tuition and rent for a good few years before she has to start working.” Clarke watched his back retreat towards the house, her brow furrowed in thought.

 

**Day Twelve**

“But why are you here then?” Raven asked from the sofa. Bellamy shrugged, handing her tea over.

“Because school’s finished for the year and the bar had no spare shifts. If I’m not making money for the entire week, what’s wrong with being here instead?” Raven nodded and Bellamy settled himself in the arm chair with Clarke, due to the other seats all being taken. She didn’t mind at all, moving her legs so they draped over his. She was wearing shorts and so the expanse of pale creamy skin was spread out right in front of Bellamy’s eyes – she took a mild satisfaction in noticing him look.

 

**Day Thirteen**

Octavia sighed, climbing down the ladder from the loft. Clarke frowned, pulling some cobweb from her hair and letting it drop on the floor. Octavia grimaced.

“Check for the spider?” She asked, and Clarke stood on the ladder, running her fingers through the brunette’s hair.

“Are you okay with Bellamy selling the house?” She asked as she searched.

“I have to be,” Octavia replied. “He’s doing it whether I’m happy or not. I’ll still be able to stay with you during the summers, right?” Clarke could almost see her hopeful expression as she brushed a bit of dirt from the girl’s hair.

“Of course,” she replied, stepping back down. “You’re clear.” Octavia nodded.

“Where are you staying next year?” She asked, checking through the list Bellamy had written out of the things she needed to collect from the loft. Clarke crouched down, moving the boxes about.

“I don’t know yet,” Clarke shrugged, even though she had an idea. Octavia started back up the ladder.

“Well, are you moving back home, or staying in Ton?” She asked, speaking loudly as she went up to the next level.

“Probably neither,” Clarke called back, sliding a lid onto a box and straightening.

“So, what? Have you got a job?” Clarke shrugged.

“Nah, but I’m considering tattoos or graphics or something,” she replied. Octavia appeared in the square in the ceiling, sliding a box down the ladder to the blonde.

“What towns are you looking at then?” Clarke shrugged, catching the box and placing it on the ground. She glanced over to the list.

“Is there a broom up there?” Octavia disappeared from the gap. “I’ve been looking at Mount Weather,” she said next, lifting the lid off the box to find it half full of books.

“It’s a nice place,” Octavia agreed.

“I’ve also been considering Ark,” Clarke mused, blatantly not looking up at the gap, even though she could feel Octavia’s presence.

“It’s a _nicer_ place,” the younger girl insisted. Clarke still didn’t look up, meaning she felt the pain first.

“Ow!” She cried out, rubbing her head and watching the broom fall to the ground. Octavia smirked from above her.

“Does Bell know that you’re moving to Ark?” Octavia asked. Clarke shrugged.

“I don’t know if I am yet,” she mumbled.

“You totally are,” Octavia replied. “Why don’t you just tell him?”

“I haven’t found a place to rent yet,” Clarke dismissed, glancing back over Bellamy’s strangely neat handwriting. “I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“My hopes are already up,” Octavia announced. “You are moving to Ark, that’s the end of that – now do we need four lamps in varying colours?”

 

**Day Fourteen**

Bellamy frowned at the boxes in his living room.

“I didn’t even know we owned so much junk,” he muttered. Clarke smiled with a shrug.

“Most of them are only half full,” she told him. “We can make the amount of boxes smaller easily.” He glanced over at her, and there was something in his expression that Clarke wasn’t sure about. “What?” He swallowed, and she could see it in the way his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Octavia told me something,” he said quietly, and Clarke ran through her list of things that Octavia knew – she knew about her crush, about moving to Ark, about the three weeks she was brunette before dying her hair back.

“What?” He looked away.

“Apparently you’re moving in the new school year?” She swallowed a little and nodded, looking to the boxes and sitting in front of them – she might as well start packing them properly. Clarke lifted the lid off of two, before rummaging through them.

“That’s the plan,” she replied, lifting up a dog-eared copy of _The Ugly Duckling_. “Do you want to throw stuff out now or just take it home and sort it out then?” He glanced over the items before sitting next to her.

“We could throw stuff out now,” he replied. “Get it out of the way.” She nodded, and pushed the box towards him.

“You throw stuff, I’ll pack,” she instructed. He nodded, chucking _The Ugly Duckling_ to the centre of the floor first.

“Octavia said you were considering Mount Weather,” Bellamy continued, as he rummaged through the books and chucked a good lot of them. Clarke then shifted the box over and started organising.

“I’m considering it, yeah.”

“It’s a nice place,” he agreed. “I could call up some of my friends who live there – they’re not too bad.” She smiled, more to herself, flattening out the corners of the paper.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I’m hoping to move somewhere where I already know some people, though.” Clarke shrugged. He nodded, and clearly his sister had told him about Ark, but Clarke decided to wait for him to bring that up.

“What about Monroe?” He asked. She shrugged.

“Monroe’s got a job in TonDC,” Clarke replied. “And I don’t really want to stay there much longer – I’ve hit my limit on it, you know?”

“And Harper?”

“TonDC, too.” Clarke pulled over the next box he’d looked through and started transferring the items over.

“So what friends do you have left, then?” There was something joking in his tone and she exhaled a smile.

“Jasper, Monty and you,” she shrugged.

“Well what are the other two doing?” She shrugged.

“I think they got hired in The City of Light.”

“That’s on the other side of the country,” he pointed out, and Clarke glanced up to see his eyebrows raised. She nodded.

“Yeah, but it’s some impressive fellowship in a grad school – I don’t even know,” she sighed.

“So I’m all you have left? That’s sad.” She snorted, pushing the empty box away and accepting the next one.

“It is, isn’t it?” She smiled sadly. “I could move here, I guess, but then the magic of the summers would wear out.”

“Have you even seen the lake in the snow?” She shook her head.

“I don’t know if I want to, either.” Bellamy nodded slowly, and she wondered when he was going to suggest it – _if_ he was, anyway.

“And you’re definitely not going back to Polis?” Clarke wrinkled up her nose.

“And have to see Mum and Jason every other day?” She shook her head. “Not fun – besides, I want to move somewhere new, somewhere I don’t know as well.” Bellamy nodded again.

“And I’m the only friend you’ve got left on that list?” He raised an eyebrow when she glanced up.

“You, Octavia, Murphy, Miller,” she nodded. “But I could compress it down to you.” She met his eye, and neither of them pulled away for a moment. His eyes looked darker than usual, and his hair was curling over the top. Bellamy looked back to the box, and Clarke followed suit.

“Well, I guess you could look into Ark, then,” he suggested. She nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I could. There’s not many options for apartments, though,” she continued. “I mean, it’s pretty difficult to find any.” He pursed his lips a little, throwing some old trinket into the ever-growing pile.

“Well, if it comes to the time when you have to move, and you haven’t found a place,” he asked his voice quiet and distinctly trying to press something down and come off as nonchalant. “Then I still have that sofa bed.” Clarke held back her smile, even if the edges did show.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, purposely not looking at him. She knows if she looked at him, he would see how happy she was over the prospect.

 

**Day Fifteen**

“Take a break,” Miller insisted, as Bellamy started going through one of the cupboards. “You’ve been at this for days.”

“Well I want to go over everything to make sure you don’t throw anything important out, after I leave,” he replied with a shrug. Clarke watched from the staircase with a sigh.

“It’ll be fine, Bell – why don’t we go up to the hill?” He glanced over at her, before rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he agreed. Miller raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been asking you to take a break for half an hour, and she asks you once and you fold?” He looked genuinely annoyed as Bellamy shrugged, moving away from the open cupboard. Clarke smiled, rolling her lips together a she walked past him.

“You wore him down,” she promised Miller, only letting a little condescension slip into her tone.

Up on the hill Bellamy and Clarke lied on their backs and stared at the sky. They were only centimetres away from each other; she could feel the warmth that radiated off of his skin and hear his breathing, steady and slow.

“How’s teaching?” She asked, breaking the silence. Next to her, Bellamy sighed almost in a disappointed way; but she didn’t know if he was disappointed with her choice of topics, or with school.

“The kids are awful,” he replied. “They are the absolute worst.”

“Are you changing schools?”

“Nah, I’m going to stick it out for a year, and then interview for another school. Might as well make it look like I tried, right?” She nodded, even though Clarke was sure that he wasn’t looking at her. “Do you have any ideas what you want to be doing?” She shook her head.

“Nope – just whatever I find, I guess. I’ve never had that single, solid dream, you know? I’ve never wanted a single job more than any other.”

“You know,” he started slowly and Clarke glanced over. He averted his eyes from where they were looking at her. “If you do move to Ark, there’s a tattoo parlour around the corner from my place? I know you said on the phone once that you wouldn’t mind doing that? Well, I just thought…” he trailed off, swallowing, and Clarke smiled.

“Thanks,” she told him sincerely. “ _If_ I do move to Ark, I’ll definitely look into it.” Bellamy’s smile was relieved, and she wondered when she’d tell him that there was no way she’d consider anywhere _but_ Ark.

 

**Day Sixteen**

On the sixteenth day of the summer that Clarke was twenty one, she kissed Bellamy for the third time in her life.

And like both of the other times, Bellamy kissed back.

The only major difference between these three times was the situation; the context it was in. The first time the two of them kissed, it was to teach Clarke how to do it – it was her first kiss back when she was thirteen and afraid, wondering what to do with her hands and what it would be like. The second time, it was short and sweet; her lips hurriedly pressed to his own to try and show him how she felt; a fifteen year old and an eighteen year old sitting on the grass. This time, it was because they were back at the tyre swing, where the first kiss had happened, and Clarke had brought it up with a laugh.

“I remember that,” Bellamy replied with a smile, swinging from a branch in the tree. Clarke looked up, smiling. “That was for Finn, right?” She nodded, leaning back in the tyre.

“I think so, yeah.” They lapsed into silence but a thought made her grin.

“What?” He asked, jumping onto the ground. Bellamy reached out a hand to grip the rope, bringing the swing to a stop. Clarke’s feet barely grazed the ground as she sat in the tyre, smiling at her best friend.

“I dunno,” she sighed happily. “I was just thinking that I was really happy that you were my first kiss instead of Finn.” Bellamy glanced at his feet with a smile.

“Yeah?” She nodded, humming in agreement.

“Actually,” she corrected. “I’m also pretty happy that you were my first kiss overall.” It was something she’d felt before, but until the subject had been broached, never been brave enough to tell him. She was exceptionally happy that Bellamy had been her first kiss – not just because it was him, but because he lead her through it, and told her where to put her hands, and let her laugh instead of it being intense and rough and scary. She told him as much, and he just smiled at the ground, the red creeping across his face.

“Who was your first kiss?” She asked next. Bellamy glanced up with a wince as he thought.

“Roma Carlile,” he nodded to himself. “I think I was fourteen at the time?”

“Was she better than me?” Clarke asked, leaning forward in the swing. She didn’t realise until she’d done it, but the action put their faces close to one another, and then she didn’t want to move away. From there she could count his freckles, and Clarke briefly pictured the wave of them down his side and what it would be like to trail her fingers along them. Bellamy hesitated before shaking his head.

“No one could be better than you,” he replied. It was an easy lie which made Clarke smile; of course he’d had better kisses than hers – she had been young and inexperienced. Still, the thought counted.

“Really?” She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. Bellamy nodded, his eyes staring at hers as neither of them moved apart. Clarke couldn’t feel the grass underneath her bare feet but as Bellamy’s eyes latched onto hers, she’d never felt more grounded. She didn’t know if it was just her, glancing between his eyes and his lips, but she didn’t care, because when she leaned forward, closing the gap, he leaned in just as much.

At first, it was a brush of the lips; a gentle graze that gave either of them the chance to pull away. But Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut and she pushed forward again, catching his lips with her own and holding herself to him with a single hand by his neck. As he pushed back to her in a way he never had with Clarke before, she couldn’t help but dart out her tongue, sweeping it across his lower lip and relishing in his moan.

The swing she sat on moved under her, as Bellamy fought to keep it steady and kiss her passionately at the same time. However his fight wasn’t good enough because the tyre turning ripped them apart. A laugh escaped Clarke’s swollen lips as she opened her eyes in surprise, and Bellamy grinned right alongside her.

“Hold on,” she struggled happily, reaching out and gripping his shoulder as she pulled her legs out of the tyre. The moment her feet were on solid ground once more, she turned back to Bellamy, watching with an amused smile and captured his lips with her own once again.

 

**Day Seventeen**

It was different, saying goodbye to Bellamy, than it had been any other year beforehand. They still hugged, and he kissed the top of her head like he would every year, but they also kissed slowly, grinning into each other’s mouths. Octavia let out a cheer from where she stood on the balcony, and Clarke pulled away with a laugh.

“Miller! Murphy!” the younger Blake yelled into the house. “Wick! Get out here!” The three men, and Raven, wandered out of the house with their eyebrows raised. Octavia was grinning, almost jumping on the balls of her feet. “They did it,” she laughed. “They finally kissed, I saw it and everything!” Clarke drowned out the cheers and laughs, because she knew they’d be immediately followed by the serious talk on who’s bet was closest. Instead, she looked back to Bellamy and kissed him soundly before telling him to drive safely.

 

**Day Twenty**

In Clarke’s bedroom, she found her father’s jacket. She had been meaning to give it back to Bellamy for a year, and while she often left it at his apartment when she visited, he would always wear it to TonDC, and it would be left there. It was as if they couldn’t decide who owned it, or needed it more, and Clarke quite liked that system.

She’d just hung up the phone after talking to Bellamy that she looked out the window. It was a nice day; the sun beating down instead of rain, and a couple of kids passed on their bikes, calling to and fro – it reminded Clarke of when she was that age, and the bike rides she took with Bellamy and Octavia; the ones where she had fallen or they’d discovered a new trail to ride. Then her eyes changed their gaze, landing on Murphy shoving a box into his car, filled with the junk that they were throwing out, and she frowned.

Clarke jogged down the stairs to see Murphy slam the boot shut, and turn towards her.

“Hey, Blondie,” he smiled. “You want to come to the tip with me?”

“Throwing out all of their stuff?” He nodded.

“Someone’s got to do it, and Bellamy will be pissed if it’s not done.” She nodded, wandering around to the passenger door and climbing in. Murphy jogged up the steps of the porch to shut the door and a moment later was next to her in the car. He pulled out of the driveway silently, and turned on the radio half way down the road.

“How’s paradise?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the road. Clarke couldn’t help but smile. It felt a little anti-climactic; the way that she and Bellamy had skirted around one another for twelve years before coming together. But it also felt right to her; the way their lips connected like puzzle pieces.

“Not bad at all,” she replied with a happy sigh. “It feels pretty great, you know?” Murphy smiled as he turned a corner and Clarke shifted in her seat, pulling a leg up underneath her.

“I assume you’ll be moving to Ark, then?” Murphy raised his eyebrows as he drove, before reaching over and switching the radio station.

“Does everyone know I’m moving?” Clarke countered. He nodded.

“Wick’s been complaining about sharing the car over such a distance,” he mused. “He wants you to give it up for the sake of your friendship.” Clarke snorted.

“He’s an engineer, he can build himself a new car,” she commented. “But yeah, Ark probably.”

“And what are you going to be doing – job-wise?” She shrugged, watching the houses pass out the window.

“Hopefully something with art,” she sighed. “But those jobs are hard to come by.” Murphy nodded understandingly, next to her.

“If it helps, I could persuade my boss to get you a gig at the bar, to tide you over?” He suggested. Clarke turned to him, raised eyebrows, and Murphy glanced over with a smile. “I’m not always an asshole.”

At the tip, they threw Bellamy and Octavia’s junk into different bins, competing with one another to see who could get the loudest smash. Murphy won when he elected to throw three china lamps at once directly into the wall of the skip, instead of the pile inside. Clarke let out a bark of laughter and the two of them grinned at each other while the workers glowered.

 

**Day Twenty Five**

Lincoln jumped into the water from the dock, and Clarke grinned as his splash hit Octavia in the face. She remembered being told only a few months beforehand that the two of them had adopted hers and Bellamy’s Saturday phone calls, and Clarke wondered if they would end up like them, too. (Clarke hoped so, for Octavia’s sake.)

 

**Day Thirty**

“Are you still looking at places to rent?” Bellamy asked over the phone. Clarke nodded even if he couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to be a burden,” she replied.

“You’re not going to be a burden if you stay with me,” he told her with a sigh; the type of sigh that said he’d told her this a hundred times before.

“What if I turn out to be?” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s what’ll be the undoing of our relationship?”

“You think our relationship is going to ‘undo’?” He asked. “It’s been two weeks, Princess, have a little faith.” Clarke laughed, staring at her bedroom ceiling.

“I hope it doesn’t,” she replied. “But if there’s going to be an undoing, it’s going to be that I’m sleeping on your sofa.” Bellamy laughed at this.

“Oh, Princess,” he sighed happily. “You don’t have to sleep on my sofa. I have a bed for a reason.” Clarke grinned and the pit of her stomach felt warm and strange.

 

**Day Thirty Six**

Miller and Murphy were reluctantly hoovering and cleaning the Blakes’ lake house. Clarke really didn’t want to be a helping hand in Bellamy selling the place, and refused to help out, instead lying on the back porch in the shade, pretending she couldn’t hear Wick and Raven discuss the logistics of their jobs and quantum mechanics that she didn’t need to know about. She felt a body settle beside her, and glanced over to find Octavia, just like she had at the beginning of the summer.

“I’m really happy you’re with Bellamy,” Octavia informed her seriously. Clarke smiled at the younger girl.

“I am, too.”

 

**Day Thirty Eight**

It was raining as Clarke drove through Ark by herself. She had driven there on her own; Octavia returning the next day and Wick going to Polis with Raven before TonDC. But she wanted to have the night to herself, and as she entered the city the rain started to beat on her windshield.

On the passenger seat was the jacket that her father had owned, and Clarke couldn’t help but glance over to it from time to time, reminding herself that he would be proud of her decision to love Bellamy (because, yes, she loved Bellamy, whether he knew it or not). Jake Griffin had been a father figure for the older Blake, and on the journeys home at the end of summer, he would recount tales of the things that Bellamy had said in the museum or out on the boat. She remembered that during the year he’d spoken of him as if suddenly remembering his existence and wanting everyone else to, also.

Jake Griffin had phoned Aurora Blake three times a week to check up on her and the family, just because her partners had all previously walked out. They had a strange bond, the two of them, even if it had been for only a couple of years. It was like Bellamy and Clarke’s friendship but condensed into the time that Jake had remaining. Only, they didn’t kiss and fall in love.

When Clarke pulled up outside Bellamy’s apartment complex, she picked up the jacket first, clutching it in her hand. The rain was heavy and hit her like ice when she moved to the boot, yanking out her suitcase as she went. It was her first day in the place she planned to live, and nature was physically assaulting her. By the time she’d walked down the road to reach the door, Clarke was drenched; her hair plastered to her forehead as if she’d just come out from the lake, and she was sure her mascara was melting down her cheeks. At the door, someone was just leaving, and Clarke moved to catch the door and make her way inside.

She rounded the steps, wincing at the way her t-shirt stuck to her skin. Then she reached Bellamy’s front door, gripping her suitcase in one hand and the jacket in the other. She knocked on the door with the latter of her hands and waited until it opened. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, and he looked surprised as his face broke out into a grin.

“I think you left this behind,” she told him, holding up the green fabric with a smile. Bellamy laughed.

“I love you,” he replied, shaking his head. They kissed in the doorway of Bellamy’s apartment, and it felt like a gateway kiss, instead of just a puzzle – like it was going to be the start of something wonderful, even if they were already twelve years down the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. PLEASE TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS STORY AND THIS CHAPTER AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER.
> 
> Like I said earlier, I think the ending's a little anti-climactic, but so is life, so I don't really mind. I'm just super proud to have written and finished this fic. I'd like to give a round of applause to everyone who's read this story, and all of those fantastic people who actually COMMENTED on loads of the chapters, and gave me their amazing insight on the story. Remember you can subscribe to my account and get an email when I post more fics (I'm going to be doing a bunch of one-shots, and I take requests and prompts on my tumblr: bowlingfornerds).
> 
> Also, because this was the last chapter and I was going to write a couple more, but didn't have enough plot left to cover it, here are the things that you should know about the next few years of Bellamy and Clarke's life: 
> 
> -Bellamy proposes at the lake house the next summer on day one - he does it on the dock, making her stand in the exact place he had been sitting when she bet him that he couldn't swim. After she said yes, and put on the ring, he grinned at her and pushed her in the lake.   
> -Octavia completed her plan to make Lincoln fall in love with her when she was twenty two, and they were married less than a year later because Octavia was sick of waiting.   
> -Murphy was true to his word and got Clarke a job at the bar, which she worked three nights a week, and worked at the tattoo parlour for the other four.   
> -Bellamy quit his job after the next year and chose a better school.   
> -His first tattoo was done by Clarke.   
> -Raven and Wick get married many years later, but before trying for an actual child, attempt to design and manufacture one first. They fail, and instead they adopt.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and bookmarks are all super appreciated - please tell me what you think?! I want to know what you loved, liked, disliked, hated. I want to know it all!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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